


I'm Letting You Know

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Series: Knowing, Forgetting, Forgiving, and Believing [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Smut, i hate me for this, literally like Just Let Me Know, somehow more angst than the JLMK????, whoops, you can hate me for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's POV of Just Let Me Know.</p><p>Liam's world shattered two years ago, and he hasn't been able to piece it back together since. When Zayn forgets everything from the past two years, Liam thinks he truly will never be alright again.<br/>But maybe Zayn can fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parts I and II

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm terribly sorry for this. I really just intended to write a few scenes from Liam's POV but then I got carried away and well, here we are. It's the whole fic. Literally the entirety of Just Let Me Know in Liam's POV. I labelled the parts just as I did in JLMK, so hopefully it's easy to follow. The very last chapter is actually a brand new scene though. Hopefully that makes up for the pain somewhat. xxTaylor

Part I:

 

Zayn looks different.

Not physically exactly, even with the longer hair and the new tattoos and having grown up. That’s just normal; they’ve all changed like that. Beyond that, he’s still that gorgeous bloke that Liam met at McDonald’s when he was only 16, that lad who grinned at him as they talked about superheroes and dreams, that boy that Liam fell in love with. Zayn’s still all sharp cheekbones and defined jawline, thick hair and long eyelashes. Beautiful.

But he’s looked different to Liam for the past two years.

It’s the way he carries himself, Liam thinks. Like he’s constantly got his guard up, Zayn’s harder than he used to be. He’s always kept his personal life close to his chest – _play your cards close to your heart right Li_ – but now he has all of these walls up. It’s like traversing an obstacle course just to get a genuine answer from him, and even after Liam’s contorted himself to make Zayn just _see_ him, he’s not entirely sure he ever does actually get a real answer.

It’s just – Zayn’s different.

Or maybe he’s just like that around Liam.

Liam doesn’t know, can’t tell, refuses to ask anyone else what they think about it. The words are nearly tripping off his tongue every single time he talks to Harry though – _Zayn’s different, right?_ Because he needs someone else to see it, needs someone else to acknowledge it so that he knows it’s not just him. Liam doesn’t think he could handle it if Zayn truly only acted different around him. He’s worried though that Harry would just frown at him and shake his head, endlessly sad because he sees every single crack in Liam’s heart.

So he can’t ask, but Zayn does look different. He’s changed, more than just physically, and Liam sees it every single time he looks at him.

Except for when he’s sleeping.

When he’s sleeping Zayn looks exactly the same, like the boy that Liam fell asleep next to for two years. His face goes slack, all the tension seeping from his wiry limbs, and his features lose every fine edge until he just looks soft. Liam aches with the ghosts of memories, moments when Zayn would let himself melt into Liam, let Liam see the softness underneath the hard edges, let himself just _be_ for a second.

He looks like that now again – the soft boy from the darkest parts of Liam’s ruined heart. As he curls into himself on the hospital bed, Zayn looks exactly like he had just under two years ago, and Liam’s torn on how he feels about that. He doesn’t want Zayn here, of course not –

(The blind panic when he got the phone call, the way he dropped everything he was doing, how he lost security and the other boys unintentionally in his absolute need to get to Zayn, the way he’d had to slump into the wall for support when he heard that Zayn was unconscious – head trauma, could be serious, don’t know don’t know don’t know – how the relief had ached right along his bones when the initial scan hadn’t turned up anything serious, how even still his heart pumps with worry)

\- but he never gets to see Zayn like this anymore, and he misses it. He’s terribly pathetic, nursing a heartbreak that’s nearly two years old like it happened last week because he just doesn’t know how to move on.

(He doesn’t want to move on).

And now – now Zayn’s fine. Or well, they aren’t sure exactly, but all the scans showed normal activity, and Liam couldn’t focus past that to hear anything else. He just – he’s just so glad that Zayn’s alive. The car accident had been bad – awful actually, Liam had seen the pictures – and they hadn’t known. They hadn’t know when they’d first gotten the call how the boys were, if Louis and Zayn were even alive and –

Liam’s breath hitches hard in his lungs just remembering the way the color had drained before his eyes, vision going black and white for moments on end, because no. No, Zayn wasn’t allowed to die. He couldn’t be dead. He hadn’t been in Liam’s life for years now – not really in his life – but he was still there, existing somewhere in the world, and he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. The thought alone had ripped through Liam’s spine, crumpling him, and he could have sworn he’d heard the gunshot crack of shattering bones like he was there for the car accident itself.

He wasn’t there, but he was here at the hospital afterward when they brought Zayn in, and he was so _still_ – not like he normally was, not like when he was entranced in a new comic or book or his phone, when he was just breathing – no Zayn had been stretched on a gurney and for ten, eleven, twelve seconds, Liam had been sure the very worst had happened, that Zayn had –

But Zayn hadn’t been dead, and he is alive now, on this bed in front of Liam.

Relief, Liam can still taste it in the back of his throat, like a breath of fresh air after being locked in a rehearsal space for too long.

His hand reaches out, the back of it just barely brushing the soft ridge of Zayn’s cheekbone, and he’s warm. Warm and alive and Liam needs the reminder. He stutters in his movements when Zayn’s face turns into the touch, just barely, his breath rushing warm over Liam’s twitching fingers. It’s – familiar actually, the way Zayn has always turned into Liam’s touch, even when unconscious like he always just _knew._

He hasn’t done it in years.

Liam can’t even remember the last time they’d touched outside of a public performance before today.

(And he swears his heart shouldn’t be able to break anymore – not when it’s been permanently cracked for so long – but it does, chipping just slightly, another piece of himself that Liam will never get back).

The door opens, and Liam doesn’t flinch away, even knowing how terrible this must look. (Like he’s the ex who is still obsessed with someone who is no longer his, because oh wait, he is). He knows it’s just Harry, and Harry has seen every disgusting low of Liam’s life so he can’t bring himself to pull away. Not when he no longer gets to touch Zayn, and he’s accepted the fact that he’s a terrible person for using this horrible situation to fill his own selfish needs.

“Oh, Li,” Harry’s voice is endlessly slow, patient but heartbroken, and Harry’s always felt everything far too much, even heartbreak that isn’t his own.

Liam doesn’t even bother looking away from the warm tone of Zayn’s skin, so stark against the white of the sheets, but he’s still pale, still hurt. He can’t look away from Zayn, not yet. Besides, Harry has no room to talk, not when his reaction over Louis had been just as drastic, just as intense, and it’s ridiculous how easily they ruin themselves over these two boys. Ridiculous and painful.

“I still love him,” Liam finally sighs out, brow wrinkling as he watches Zayn’s chest shudder with a rough breath. He holds his own until Zayn’s breathing steadies out again. “I figured I did, right, but now I know. I still love him.”

Cliché that he’s figured that out right now, that he’s still gut-twistingly in love with Zayn, but well Liam’s always had shit timing when it comes to figuring himself out.

And his tattoo – _I figured it out –_ is just another reminder _._ Liam’s still got it figured out, but apparently Zayn no longer does or never did, the specifics aren’t very clear. Even more than a year later, and Liam’s never gotten the full story of why Zayn broke up with him. He knows Zayn’s keeping parts of it to himself, and he’s far too cowardly to ask. But he still knows – he loves Zayn, and he doesn’t have him. Will never have him again, it isn’t even a question. Oh, Liam’s still got it all figured out; it’s just nothing like he thought it’d be.

Harry’s silent, but not like he doesn’t have a response, more like he’s biting one back because he knows that Liam doesn’t want to hear it. Once upon a time Liam would have said Zayn knew him the best, but Harry knows every centimeter of his bruised soul these days, and Zayn returned his claim to everything Liam had given him.

So the silence drags on, and Liam won’t let himself look away from Zayn. Not yet.

Finally Harry clears his throat. “Perrie’s here.”

Liam’s hand stops its gentle path up and down the side of Zayn’s face, from soft skin to scruff and back again. He expects the words to hurt, but they don’t really. It’s more like Harry’s saying time’s up, like Liam already knew that the empty space beside Zayn’s bed was not his. He’s had hours now though, hours and hours because he was right by Zayn’s side from the moment they wheeled his unconscious body in here, and a spiteful part of Liam’s psyche whispers that Perrie wasn’t. He was here, and she wasn’t and doesn’t that mean –

But no. It doesn’t mean anything. Even if he wishes it does.

He takes his hand back, watching the distance grow between his skin and Zayn’s. His time is up indeed, and he doesn’t even try to fight it.

“Right,” his voice creaks with exhaustion. Hours, it’s been hours, and he should probably sit down. Maybe he’ll grab the spare chair in Louis’s room, let Louis’s loud complaints keep these racing thoughts at bay. He lets his gaze linger on Zayn for just a moment more – lovely, still lovely – and then he turns and doesn’t look back.

(He hasn’t looked back for close to two years, so why start now?)

He pauses in the doorway for only a moment, hesitation almost holding him back but –

“Will you stay with him?” Liam can’t even look at Harry as he makes the request, doesn’t want to see Harry’s green eyes harden, doesn’t want to have to beg for this. “Please, Haz, I just – I don’t want him to be alone.”

“He won’t be,” Harry sighs.

And yeah, Liam supposes that technically that’s true. Perrie will be here, but it isn’t the same. She isn’t the same as one of them being here. (She isn’t enough). “Please,” Liam just says again, voice teetering dangerously close to the edge of truly begging.

Harry sags out of the corner of his eye, like Liam had known he would. For all that Harry’s angry, for all that Harry does not support Zayn’s decisions, he still cares about the other boy. There’s nothing in the world that could make the five of them stop caring about each other, Liam thinks.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. I – it’s probably better this way anyways.”

If Liam were a better mate he would ask what had happened. He would check to see if Louis had managed to chip away another piece of Harry’s affection with harsh words that he probably hadn’t even meant. But Liam is a worthless mate right now, and he’s exhausted, so he doesn’t ask.

He just nods his thanks, clasps Harry’s thin shoulder for a moment, and then disappears out the door.

The realization that when Zayn wakes up, Perrie will be the one to greet him, like Liam was never there (a morbid echo of their lives up until this point) doesn’t even hurt. It just hits against the numbness wrapping around Liam’s mind, and he knows that eventually he’ll have to deal with this, really deal with this.

Eventually every single moment from this night will knock him over and play in his head until he can’t breathe, and he’ll have to deal with it all or repress it and it’ll be disastrous and painful and probably end with him blind-drunk while he wallows in the fact that he’s somehow incomplete still – he’ll have to deal with it.

But not now.

Right now, his time is up.

 

* * *

 

“And these beds are ridiculous,” Louis smacks his fist against the hospital bed to punctuate his statement, but Liam doesn’t even look up from his phone. Louis’s been raging for two hours straight now, and Liam’s thinking that he actually might have done Harry a favor by asking him to wait with Zayn.

(And he ignores the twinge in his legs, like the muscles themselves are demanding he get up from this stupid chair and go to Zayn because he _can’t._ That’s not his place anymore).

“Anything else you’d like to complain about, Lou?” Niall asks drily, his blue eyes focused on the small TV playing in the corner. “Maybe the air? Think that’s about the only thing you haven’t yelled about yet.”

“Shove off, Horan,” Louis replies without heat. “I was in an accident. Be nice.”

“You’ve got a few cuts,” Liam points out.

“But they sting Liam,” Louis whines. “And I’m traumatized! I’ll never be able to go near a car again!”

Liam bites back his cutting remark about how Louis isn’t the one lying unconscious right now because he knows that Louis isn’t being insensitive. Just the opposite actually, Louis’s distracting himself because he’s worried, and he doesn’t want to show it. He wants to distract himself, and he’s actually distracting Liam as well, so Liam just sighs and says, “You’ll be fine.”

“I will not! I’ll have to fly everywhere, and I’ll never be able to hang out on the tour bus again, and security will get proper pissed at me for being a demanding pop star – and Liam Payne why aren’t you paying attention to me?”

Liam finally glances up from his phone to shoot Louis an annoyed glare. Louis just glares back at him looking all the world like a petulant child, and Liam swears there’s no way he’s actually the oldest.

“Me mum’s worried,” he answers shortly, gesturing with his phone. He is actually texting his mum, but he doesn’t dare elaborate further. (Won’t tell Louis that his mum’s asking about Zayn because Liam isn’t the only Payne who hasn’t gotten over the break up – and he’ll never admit to the way his mum had cried when he’d told her, or the way she still always sounds slightly hopeful whenever she asks about Zayn. Liam doesn’t want the pity).

Louis snorts but relaxes further into his bed. “You weren’t even in the accident.”

Before Liam can even begin to think about a response to that that doesn’t involve him very obviously taking out his worry over Zayn on Louis, the door is being flung open.

Liam’s on his feet in an instant, eyes glued to Harry, who is hovering in the doorway, a manic look on his face.

Liam’s heart stops.

“Oh God, Zayn –” it’s choked and broken, and Liam feels like his heart is burning inside his chest because no. There’s no way –

“He’s awake,” Harry stammers.

The rush of blood back into Liam’s system is almost painful.

“Christ,” Liam mutters, wanting to yell at Harry for scaring him but not having the energy.

Harry’s not paying attention anyways. He’s still standing in the doorway, looking like he’s suffering from shock. “Zayn woke up, and he wants – I tried to – but he wouldn’t listen and – he just wants –”

“Harry,” Liam cuts through the rambling. “What does he want?”

“You,” Harry says helplessly, green eyes wide and troubled. “He wants you.”

Liam has to immediately clamp down on his racing thoughts because no. No, it isn’t what he wants it to be. There’s no way Harry means that Zayn wants him the way that Liam wants Zayn to want him. Liam can’t let himself hope for that, no. It hurts too much to hope and he _knows_ that, intimately and painfully, with half a dozen scars on his heart to prove it.

The room has gone quiet by the time Liam forces himself to focus again, Niall having muted the TV at some point and even Louis going curiously still.

And Liam knows that he should probably say something, maybe ask Harry to explain what exactly Zayn said, possibly reason out why Zayn would logically ask for him, but he doesn’t. His heart is thrumming and that nasty bird called Hope is fluttering in his chest already and his lungs feel a bit tight and –

And Zayn wants him.

That’s all that matters really.

So Liam’s heading toward the door without another word.

“No, Li, wait –” Harry’s still stumbling over his words, tumbling over his feet as he stumbles towards Liam. His face is ghastly pale, and if Liam could think of anything but Zayn right now, he’d probably actually think about Harry’s reaction.

“Liam, I mean it,” Harry continues, reaching out like he means to physically stop Liam.

“Fuck, Haz, let him go.”

Liam pauses in his stride, brought up short by Louis’s voice. He glances over his shoulder to see his bandmate glaring at Harry.

“Excuse me?” Harry hisses, and when Liam turns back to him with a sinking feeling in his gut, he isn’t surprised to find Harry’s green eyes snapping with anger.

Louis just tilts his chin up arrogantly, and it’s all so familiar to Liam. Because he and Zayn died with a pathetic whimper but Louis and Harry are going out like a forest fire, and it’s all arguments where both walk away burned. “You heard me, Styles. Let the man go.”

“Fuck you, Tomlinson. You don’t get to decide –”

“And you do? It’s their decision! Zayn and –”

“And of course you’re choosing Zayn’s side! You always do don’t you? Playing the fucking victim, like you two aren’t the ones –”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Louis bites out, voice low and deadly.

Harry looks cowed for a moment, but it’s only for a moment before he’s launching into a tirade again, and Liam’s not even listening. He should be because Louis and Harry will tear each other apart with words until someone stops them, but he can’t hear them right now. He can’t listen because all he can think about is Zayn.

Zayn awake and down the hall and still injured. Zayn who wants to see him. Zayn who he still loves even though –

Even though that’s a one-sided love now.

A hand on his arm startles Liam, and he looks up into Niall’s all-too-knowing blue eyes.

“Go, mate,” he mumbles underneath the tidal wave of Harry and Louis’s voices crashing. “I’ll handle them. Just go, yeah?”

Liam stutters over a smile, so thankful, and then he’s gone. He hears Harry call after him and stumbles, but then he hears Niall’s voice, and he continues.

Racing down the hall, he can’t even let himself stop to think because if he does then he’ll start questioning it. He’ll start questioning everything and wanting answers, and that’s the one thing Zayn’s never given him. Never, not even immediately after when Liam felt hollowed out like a month-old jack-o-lantern, sagging and useless because his time had passed and his flame had gone out. So he doesn’t allow himself to wonder why Zayn asked for him because it doesn’t matter. Liam will take what he can get, even if it feels like he’s smashing himself to pieces afterwards. He’ll take anything.

He barely slows himself down before he hits the door, but he manages. It’s self-preservation after all this time, toning himself down so that Zayn can’t see his desperation. He’s gotten so much better at perfecting his mask.

With one last gulp of air, Liam gently guides the door open and steps through, eyes already glued to the bed where he knows Zayn will be. His breath hitches – giving him away – and then he’s transfixed in Zayn’s gaze, frozen with one hand halfway to the back of his neck to rub self-consciously.

And it’s –

Liam’s thrown completely because Zayn’s eyes are darting all over him, like he’s searching for injuries or something, like _Liam’s_ the one who’s been in an accident. It makes no sense, and Liam can’t make himself focus, until suddenly Zayn slumps in relief.

“Liam.”

He tenses, his mind grinding to a standstill because he knows that voice.

It’s not like Zayn hasn’t talked to him since they broke up, because he has. Of course he has. They talk all the freaking time, but it’s different. Just like everything else, it changed. Zayn’s voice became distant, unfamiliar almost, like they were strangers, and all that warmth Liam used to associate with him was sucked away, replaced with an icy numbness.

But this – the way Zayn just said Liam’s name – on an exhale of air, like he’d let himself go, it’s so fucking familiar.

And suddenly Liam’s back two years ago, when he and Zayn were still HeandZayn and it was relaxing just to be near each other. He remembers, so clearly, sneaking into Zayn’s bed late at night, waking him accidentally, the way Zayn would tense for a moment before he’d register who it was, and then – he’d just sink into Liam’s side, breathing out his name like having Liam there was all that he could ever want. It happened so many times that Liam lost track, but it never ceased to make his heart stop and start again, steady in Zayn’s presence.

Or worse, another memory, this one so crystal clear it’s like he’s there again –

_Zayn arching underneath him, back bent almost painfully as he struggles to push closer because Liam’s teasing him, thrusting into his tight heat so slowly, dragging it out. They’re covered in sweat from close to an hour of this – just moving together, not really seeking a climax but relishing in the closeness only this intimacy can give them._

_And it’s a sweet sigh on the tip of Zayn’s tongue when he finally gives in and breathes out, “Liam.”_

He’s thrust harshly back into reality by the shear and shocking pain of that memory, and he feels suddenly like he can’t breathe. It’s been months since he let himself remember anything even close to that about Zayn, and it’s – it’s too much all at once, and he just wants to run away.

But he can’t. Zayn’s laid up in the hospital bed, staring at him with bright eyes in a pale face, and he’s – he looks different, and even though Liam can’t breathe, he can’t leave either. He never could leave Zayn.

“Liam,” his name again, wrapped in Zayn’s voice like love, but there’s a slight tremble to it, and when Liam finally gets his eyes to focus, he feels his face drain of color. Zayn’s wide-eyed, frightened, his face open to every flicker of emotion and –

It’s been two fucking years since Liam’s seen him this way, and –

“Christ, Liam come here,” Zayn’s continuing, clearly thrown by Liam’s reactions (which makes no sense) but determinedly reaching out for him, like it wasn’t just a mistake or a moment of weakness that caused him to call for Liam. Like _he actually wants Liam here,_ and Liam just doesn’t know what to do with that.

“I – Zayn,” he stumbles over his tongue, tasting blood and he only just realizes that he’s bitten the tip of it. The door handle slips out of his grip, and he’s tripping over his feet for only a couple of steps before he halts. There’s a magnetic pull in his gut, called by the look in Zayn’s eyes, but he can’t. _Two years,_ his mind keeps hissing at him, like he needs the reminder. _Two years. Two years. Two years._

Zayn’s looking at him with so much hurt, and Liam nearly flinches away. He’s never hurt Zayn, not intentionally, not like – not like Zayn’s hurt him.

But no – he can’t think of that right now, not – he wants to scream, his thoughts everywhere, and it’s a struggle to pull himself together under Zayn’s dark gaze.

His voice is strained when he finally manages, “What happened?”

Because he needs to know. He needs to know what the hell happened between now and five hours ago when Zayn’s face was carefully blank as he pulled Louis away to go for a drive, looking nowhere near Liam, like he wasn’t even there.

Zayn’s eyes drop to watch his hands twist in the sheets, and that, at least, is familiar. It’s a nervous habit that Zayn’s always had. There’s such a long pause as Zayn studies his hands, brow wrinkling like he’s figuring out how to say something, and Liam’s fighting to remain here, frightened of what Zayn could possibly have to say.

“I thought it was April fifth when I woke up.”

Liam startles at the volume of Zayn’s voice, the words running together like Zayn had to make himself blurt it out, and then he’s actually processing the words, and his confusion only grows. “It’s November,” is the first thing out of his mouth, because what? April?

He’s distracted by the small smile tugging at Zayn’s lips as he says, “Yeah I know that now, but I, um, I can’t really remember.”

Liam goes perfectly, painfully still, like an animal trying to hide from a predator because – _memory loss?_ That’s what Zayn’s saying, right? Memory loss, like – “Wait, you can’t remember? Zayn, you can’t remember these last months?” The alarm is clear in his voice, and he’s not really sure why it feels so frightening. Except – except Zayn’s mind has always been such a huge part of who he is, his intelligence is so important to him, and now his mind is different, and Liam thinks that it’s probably the last thing Zayn would have ever wanted, to be missing things in his own head.

His head has always been his safe space, the place he retreats to, and now it’s missing parts.

Liam feels like throwing up.

“Actually, I think it’s April fifth –” Zayn’s saying again.

“It’s –” Liam tries, desperation making his voice harsh.

“– 2012.”

Liam’s vision blacks out for a moment, endless darkness creeping in on him pressing down on his spine until he feels like he’ll collapse, and then the world comes swinging back. He can’t feel his body as he stares at Zayn, not even really processing. Not at all.

April fifth, 2012.

And he doesn’t need anyone to explain to him why that’s so relevant. His mind hasn’t decided to bless him with a moment’s reprieve before he fully understands what this means.

April fifth, 2012.

He and Zayn were still together.

Zayn’s babbling when Liam finally hears again, his voice high and uncontrolled like it hasn’t been since he was seventeen. “– and Harry was here and the doctor asked me what day it was, and I said April fifth, 2012. Because that’s the last thing I remember, right? I remember it being April fourth, and it was so late, and I went to your room to talk to you, but I thought I must have fallen asleep. Except then the doctor told me it wasn’t April, that it wasn’t even 2012, and well I freaked out for a bit, because shit I don’t even remember the accident, so I couldn’t figure out why I was in a hospital. And then –”

“You think its 2012?” Liam barely manages to whisper, but it shuts Zayn up like Liam yelled. There’s no way to control the horror in his own voice, but Liam hardly registers it. He’s locked inside his own head, his thoughts a wordless howl of so many emotions he can’t even begin to name them, let alone truly feel them.

“Yeah,” Zayn mumbles, staring at his covered lap again. “I mean, obviously I know it’s not now, because the doctor told me, and well, everyone’s a bit different, ya? But my mind thinks its 2012 still. Like I can’t...” He trails off, and Liam knows it’s because he can’t make himself actually say the words.

So Liam does. “You can’t remember.”

The words swing down in between them like a sentence, like Liam’s going to swing from the gallows now, and he thinks that he kind of can’t breathe like he really is being hung, and shit –

“Shit,” Zayn gasps in an echo of his thoughts that instantly captures Liam’s attention.

And Liam just falls apart. He’s shaking, body trembling with it, like his molecules don’t even want to stay together anymore. And there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He can’t even think.

“Shit, Li,” and Zayn’s voice is like a bed of nails scrapping along his already bloodied skin, and Liam wants to tell him to _stop._ To just stop talking until Liam can find himself again, but of course Zayn does the opposite. He babbles again, like he always does when he’s freaking out.

“But the doctor said that it’s just temporary,” he nearly shouts, and Liam flinches. “Like, I’m going to remember eventually. The memories will come back in, like, bits and pieces, I guess. And sometimes, I might not even realize that I’m remembering, but it should all come back. I’ll remember –”

 _No!_ It’s a shout in the void of Liam’s thoughts because no, he doesn’t want that. Fuck, he doesn’t want Zayn to remember but – “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I...”

The pause alerts Liam to the fact that Zayn’s hesitant to say. That sparks his interest just enough to look up, and he’s surprised by the very real fear on Zayn’s face, and he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand what Zayn could possibly have to fear, until he really thinks about it.

 _April fifth 2012_ , he thinks. _April 2012_ , just before –

And he knows what Zayn’s going to say before he even says it.

“I came to your room, but you weren’t there, so I sat down on your bed. I remember I was biting my nails, even though you hate it, because I was so bloody nervous. We’d been fighting, and I just wanted to talk to you, just you, about well –”

“About Perrie,” Liam sighs out, and he closes his eyes before he can see the flash of guilt he knows will be in Zayn’s eyes. And it’s ironic that Liam remembers Zayn’s last memories so clearly. April – they fought a lot in April, all about Perrie, and Liam can’t remember exactly what Zayn’s remembering right now, but he knows where this is going. The last thing Zayn remembers is coming to Liam’s room to convince him that Zayn should publicly date Perrie.

Does Zayn even know that he succeeded in convincing Liam after all?

“Yeah,” Zayn finally says, snagging Liam back to the present. “But, I mean, clearly we worked that out, yeah? Obviously, you agreed, because Perrie was here earlier and –”

Liam stumbles back like Zayn’s punched him square in his chest, like he’s hit on that old bruise that Perrie was, back before she’d been a part of their relationship, back before she’d been – before she’d been Liam’s replacement.

“Perrie was here?” he finds himself nearly shouting, even though he knows. He knows that Perrie was here because it was why he left Zayn’s side in the first place. Not that Zayn knows that, he realizes suddenly. Zayn has no idea that Liam was here while he was still unconscious. All he can remember is Perrie, and isn’t that just fucking great? Of course all Zayn will know is that Perrie was here for him. Of course. Liam feels like shouting at the roof, demanding to know what the hell he did to deserve any of this.

“Yeah, she was here when I woke up, but then –” Zayn starts.

But Liam shakes his head, cutting Zayn off. He can’t control the disgust screwing up his face right now. He’s just – he feels worthless suddenly, replaceable. Useless, once again. Useless little Liam Payne with the big dreams and the questionable talent. Useless Liam Payne, who Zayn doesn’t need anymore, hasn’t needed for two years and –

“Of course she was here,” he snaps out. “She’s always fucking here.”

Zayn flinches. “Li, I don’t understand. You agreed to let me pretend to date her, right? So of course she was here; she’s got to keep up appearances, and it’s going to be on the news that I was in an accident. I’m sorry I mentioned her, but she’s gone now, so can’t we –”

Liam feels the tears gathering in his eyes as he shakes his head. He doesn’t want to do this, not any of it. “Christ, Zayn. She’s not gone. She’s never gone. She’ll always be around now, yeah? Because that’s what you agreed to. Hell that’s what you _decided_ , except apparently now you don’t remember that. You don’t remember any of that. Shit, you don’t remember _anything._ ”

His voice breaks on the last word, and he hates himself for it. But it’s true. Zayn doesn’t remember anything of the events that have shaped Liam so brutally. He’s not who he was two years ago. He’s been broken, but Zayn doesn’t know that. He doesn’t –

“What are you talking about?” Zayn demands, voice gone tight with fear that Liam knows he’s trying desperately to control. “What did I decide? I never would have decided anything without you –”

The laugh that startles out of Liam’s throat is loud and harsh in all the ways that his laugh normally isn’t, but he can’t control it. Because, shit, that’s just so – it’s so fucking funny, isn’t it? Because – “You never would have decided to get engaged without me? Really? Jesus, you don’t even know Zayn –”

He cuts himself off though when he sees Zayn’s instant denial. He takes in the way Zayn’s eyes go wide and distant, like he’s lost in his own mind, and he’s unbalanced. It takes Liam a moment to figure out why Zayn’s reacting like this but then –

“You didn’t know,” he sighs out, defeated and tired suddenly and resigned. He’s so resigned, and he thinks he has been for two years now. “You didn’t know that you’re engaged to her.”

Before Liam can even try to apologize, before the regret curling on his tongue can even become words, Zayn’s speaking again.

“Why weren’t you here?” he demands, and the accusation in his voice brings Liam up short. The subject change is abrupt, but Zayn’s furiously focused on it now. “Even if Perrie and I are engaged for the publicity or whatever, why weren’t you here, Li? I woke up and you weren’t here, and I just don’t get it, because you should have been. I never would have...” The tears in his eyes feel like acid against Liam’s skin. “I just – why weren’t you here?” Zayn finishes, sounding so sad but also angry like – like he’s been betrayed.

And oh but Liam knows that feeling so well. He knows intimately what it feels like when the center of your whole world lets you down, like the sun just stopped having a gravitational pull one day and suddenly everything’s out of orbit and you can’t make sense of anything.

He knows he has to tell Zayn, but he can’t.

“I would have never left you alone,” Zayn whispers, scrubbing at his face harshly when the tears start to fall. “I would have been there when you woke up. Why weren’t you here for me? I would never leave you –”

“But you did, Zayn,” Liam can’t help but say because it’s the truth. Zayn left him, and he has no idea. “You did.”

“I did what?”

Liam shrugs, pretending like it doesn’t matter because he’s a coward. He’s a coward, and he doesn’t want to do this. He can’t – he can’t tell Zayn that he broke his heart, that he fucking shattered him, that for months Liam wasn’t even functioning. He can’t do that. Maybe, if Zayn remembered, maybe if Liam was feeling upset, he could pour it all out. He could unleash this hurt that’s been festering for two years now. But this Zayn – this Zayn sitting in a hospital bed and looking at Liam like – like he still loves Liam. Liam can’t do that to this Zayn. This Zayn still loves him. He can see it, in the betrayal in his eyes, the way he can’t stop his tears. This Zayn thinks he still loves Liam, and Liam can’t ruin that. He just can’t.

He folds his arms tight across his chest and struggles to block himself off because he knows what’s coming. He can’t unload all of his hurt on this innocent Zayn, but he still needs to tell him. He deserves to know. He can’t – Zayn can’t think that they’re still together.

“We broke up.” It’s such a simple statement, but so powerful all the same.

“What?”

Liam won’t let himself quite look at Zayn’s face. “We broke up.”

“No.”

The way it’s instantaneous cuts Liam so deep that he wants to check for blood. He feels like he should be bleeding. He’s exhausted, worn out and used and beaten down. He can only remember feeling worse once before in his life and that’s when –

Well that’s when Zayn broke up with him, a memory that Zayn no longer holds.

Liam makes himself look up, barely taking in the pale cast of Zayn’s features, as he holds a shaky mask in place to cover up the ache he feels radiating in his cells.

“Zayn, we broke up,” he makes himself say. “We haven’t been together in over a year now. You – I moved out last September.” He doesn’t bother telling him that it ended before that, that it’d been falling apart for months before Liam actually moved his things out and made it final. Even after – even after Zayn finally actually said the words Liam still clung on for a bit, until he just couldn’t deny it anymore. But Zayn doesn’t need to know any of that, not now.

Zayn falls apart right in front of Liam’s eyes. He curls into himself, spine pressed almost painfully against the wall, like he needs to get away from Liam, and that – Fuck it’s almost familiar. How many times now has Zayn cringed away from Liam like he’s disgusting? It shouldn’t cut so deep, but it does. Fuck it does. It’s all so raw, brought to the surface again, and Liam thought he had finally been getting control over all of this, but it’s gone now. It’s gone because he’s breaking Zayn’s heart right now, shocking him like Zayn had shocked Liam two years ago, and he –

Even at his lowest points over the past two years, Liam never wanted to hurt Zayn like Zayn had hurt Liam. He would never wish that kind of pain on anyone.

So when Zayn starts gasping for air, pulling at the thin material of his hospital gown like it’s choking him, Liam can’t stand it. He’s bursting out of the door and running down the hall before he can even think.

He doesn’t quite catch what he’s shouting as he runs to the nearest nurses’ station, but he knows it’s something along the lines of needing a doctor, of a patient unable to breathe, and he’s gasping now too. He’s gasping as all of the nurses but one take off for Zayn’s room, gasping as that last nurse comes up to him.

Liam can’t hear a word she says as she grips his arms and levels her eyes at him, but he knows she’s trying to calm him down. He wants to laugh and tell her that he doesn’t even know what calm is anymore. Calm used to be wrapped in a skinny boy’s tattooed arms, and he’s not felt it in two years, so he’s sure as hell not going to find it now.

He just broke Zayn’s heart. He just destroyed – he can’t even put it into words inside his own head. It’s all just – it’s too –

Liam feels like somebody peeled back layers of his skin until he was just a bloody mess of exposed flesh and then just left him there. He feels like he’s never suffered like this before, like physical pain would almost be welcome. He feels like – like he did two years ago.

His thoughts stop after that. He’s still gasping, but he just – he stops feeling anything after that. He goes numb, so numb.

Liam forces himself to breathe though, self-preservation kicking in at last, and when he closes his eyes, he counts it as a blessing that all he sees is darkness.

He doesn’t want to see anything else.

Not right now.

 

Harry finds him eventually and drags him away, and Liam allows it. He goes willingly, like he’s in shock. He thinks he actually might be. Everything’s muted, like he can’t properly experience the world, but he’s grateful for it. He thinks he probably would prefer to be drunk, but when he suggests that – hidden away in the corner of a waiting room with Harry and Niall watching him with worried eyes – not even Niall cracks a smile.

His thoughts want to circle back to Zayn as they wait, but he doesn’t let them. He’s gotten so great at controlling his wandering mind, after all he’s had two years to perfect it. So when his mind starts to drift to the beginning of their relationship, kissing Zayn and just praying that he hadn’t read him wrong, Liam snaps his mind back. When his thoughts start to head toward where it all began to fall apart, that meeting with management where Liam said no for the first time, he stops thinking altogether. When he remembers an argument with Zayn over it weeks later, when Liam had finally let his worst fear through ( _Do you want to date her Zayn?)_ , when Zayn had said _You should have told me_ and Liam had whispered too quietly for him to hear _You should have known,_ he makes himself think of other things.

The doctors come and update them, explain that they’re keeping Zayn sedated for a bit, to calm him down. They come back every hour, updating them, and it’s mildly terrifying when they admit that Zayn’s not waking up, and Louis – who disobeyed orders and got out of bed to wait with them – nearly punches the doctor, she hastily explains that Zayn’s not back in a coma. He just doesn’t seem to want to wake up quite yet.

And yeah, Liam gets that.

He’s forced to tell the boys what happened eventually, in bits and pieces, and Harry looks so sorry when he says that he tried to warn Liam, and Liam gets that too. Harry was distracted by Louis and his own heartache; it’s not his fault. Nothing is anybody’s fault actually, and that’s why Liam’s so calm as he tells them that Zayn doesn’t remember breaking up with him or anything that followed. That’s why when they all look horrified and sympathetic, Liam just shrugs them off.

It’s no one’s fault after all, just Liam’s shitty luck, and he’s used to that by now.

When he gets up and leaves, no one stops him.

 

* * *

 

Liam doesn’t return to the hospital the next day. He stays alone in the hotel and forces himself not to drink himself into oblivion. Harry keeps him updated on Zayn’s condition, and Liam’s torn between being grateful and begging that he stops. He settles for just reading the texts, not replying, but it still stabs him when he hears that Zayn might never recover his memories, still punches the air from his lungs when he thinks about what the hell that could mean for them.

It’s been on his mind since last night when Harry crawled into his bed and whispered tentatively, “He still loves you.”

“He only thinks he does.” It was – and still is – Liam’s only defense against all of this.

(Because he still wants Zayn, still craves him, but he can’t have him. This Zayn – with half of his memories of Liam wiped out – he doesn’t love Liam, not really. He only thinks he does because he doesn’t remember when he stopped loving Liam. Liam does though. He remembers, and he has to cling to that).

“You could –” Harry had started, but Liam hadn’t let him finish. He had known exactly what Harry was going to say.

“I really couldn’t.”

Harry hadn’t finished, had just rolled over and gone to sleep, but Liam had stayed awake.

_You could get back together._

That was what Harry had been about to say.

And he could.

Liam’s disgusted to admit that it had crossed his mind almost immediately when he had returned to the hotel last night. Zayn thinks he’s still in love with Liam. It would be so easy to –

But no. Liam won’t even let himself think on it. And it’s not for the noble reason that Harry probably thinks. It’s not because he knows it’s morally wrong or anything – though it is. It is so incredibly fucked up to take advantage of an injury – because that’s what this is. Zayn is injured, and Liam can’t take advantage of that. He won’t pretend the holes in Zayn’s memory don’t exist. But not because it’s fucked up.

Liam won’t let himself think about it or do it because he’s terrified that Zayn will get his memories back. He can’t lose Zayn again. Not a second time. And it doesn’t matter if Zayn could possibly never get his memories back because that’s exactly what Liam would want. He’d want Zayn to forever be missing those pieces of himself and how fucked up is that? He’d hate himself if Zayn never got his memories back, and if Zayn ever did Liam’s not sure he could make Zayn keep loving him.

He couldn’t do it the first time.

So he won’t even let himself think about getting back together with Zayn.

He just can’t do it.

 

* * *

 

Liam doesn’t want to go to the hospital before their performance (especially not after the dream he’d had last night, of Zayn spread out on his hands and knees, desperate for Liam and – he’d woken up disgusted with himself and had worked out for hours to punish himself) but he lets the others talk him into it. Honestly, he’s only convinced after Harry lets it slip that Perrie’s gone, headed back home without a word to any of them, and Liam’s horrified by the sick thrill of joy he feels at hearing that.

Still just walking into Zayn’s room had been a trial, and Liam’s still not sure if it’s better or worse that Zayn’s still asleep right now. (Better because he doesn’t have to meet his eyes, but worse because Zayn looks soft like this).

He’s silent as the others talk, standing by the door with body language that screams discomfort, and he doesn’t pay attention only Louis says, “Think he’s waking up lads.”

This is followed by a long groan from Zayn that nearly makes Liam smile, but his face freezes when he catches, “Leeyum. Make ‘em go ‘way.”

The room goes deathly still, and Liam can’t think. He can’t – he doesn’t want to think about it, so he’s just staring at Zayn as he gradually pulls himself up, blinking sleepy confusion out of his eyes. He looks around, eyes landing on Liam, and he sees the moment that Zayn remembers. A cold crash of reality spills in Liam’s eyes, and yeah, Liam. Yeah, it kind of hurts exactly like that.

“Fuck, Liam I –” he tries, but Liam doesn’t want to hear it. He’s out the door and heading to the van without another word.

 _Stupid,_ he tells himself. _Stupid, he doesn’t want you like that anymore._

A traitorous part of his mind tries to whisper that Zayn does actually, but Liam stomps it out before the thought can even fully form. He won’t go down that path. He won’t.

None of their security team comments when Liam arrives alone and early at the van, and the driver doesn’t breathe a word when Liam slams the door behind himself.

The silence feels nice, and Liam lets himself sink into it.

 

(See because Liam’s gotten really good at just existing. He doesn’t even think anymore, hasn’t since Zayn left him. It’s like Zayn took away his ability to function, like Zayn was a vital part of his mind or something. So Liam can shut down, can just completely stop thinking, because he’s missing that – he’s missing whatever Zayn became when he was Liam’s).

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day goes even worse. Liam introduces them by their names and not their band name because he can’t seem to stop himself. (And it might have something to do with a conversation he can clearly remember having with Zayn where he’d said they weren’t One Direction without him – and that’s still true, even now).

They perform and Liam takes Zayn’s parts because he knows them the best, and none of the boys had commented on it yesterday when the arrangements had been made. Liam’s sure as hell not going to admit why he has the sound of Zayn’s imprinted in his mind, why he can clearly hear Zayn singing along with him in his mind.

It’s not until the interview though, that Liam loses his careful control. The way he snaps at the interviewer is far from professional, and he knows his anger is glaringly obvious but he can’t – it’s just so unfair that Zayn gets this backlash. He’d never wanted his bad boy image, and it’s not even close to true so – and it doesn’t matter that they aren’t together anymore. Zayn is still Zayn, and Liam still loves him. So he snaps at the interviewer, and then the other boys have to cover while Liam tries to pull himself together, even though he hasn’t felt together for nearly two years now.

Liam’s still thrown, off balance and shaken, when they get back to the hospital, and that’s why he caves and goes with them to see Zayn. Even though he knows it will end badly.

It goes even worse than he could have imagined.

He should never have agreed to be alone with Zayn, but he has, and now he’s here with Zayn’s question ringing in his ears.

_Why’d you break up with me?_

Liam immediately wants to say, _I didn’t._ He wants to scream and shout and say, _I never would have. I would have stayed! I wanted to fight, but then you –_

It’s that moment that he realizes he has to tell Zayn the truth. He still doesn’t want to, can’t stand the idea of hurting Zayn, but he needs to. He can’t do this anymore, and Zayn needs to know. Zayn deserves to know, so Liam tries. He really does, but Zayn won’t hear it. He shrinks back into the bed and cringes, and Liam’s dying inside.

So he gives in.

He’s fucking weak, and he breaks under the weight of Zayn’s begging. He just stops trying to tell him the truth, gives in and resolves himself to the fact that Zayn’s going to think Liam broke up with him.

He thinks he sees something flash in Zayn’s eyes when he says, “Whatever you want, Zayn,” and for half a second he lets himself think that Zayn remembers what he’s remembering.

_They’re fighting again, and Liam hates it. He hates that this is their new reality. They never used to fight, but now Perrie’s in the picture, and they fight all the time._

_It’s his fault; he knows it is. If he could just control his jealousy, if he could just –_

_“And it’s not like I even like her, Liam!” Zayn’s shouting, glaring at Liam from a meter away with crossed arms. “You can’t expect me to spend all this time with her and not even be friends! That’s ridiculous! I –”_

_“You’re right.” All of the fight leaves Liam, and he feels himself shrink. He’s so tired, more exhausted than he’s ever been, and it’s only been five months. Perrie and Zayn have only been a celebrity couple for five months, and Liam’s already breaking apart because he’s weak._

_Zayn goes still, and Liam looks up at him miserably._

_“You’re right,” he repeats, voice nearly breaking over the words. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Zayn.”_

_And Zayn crumples too. He’s wrapping Liam in his arms and Liam lets him because he doesn’t want to hold himself up anymore. He doesn’t want to feel alone anymore._

_“Oh, Liam,” Zayn’s breathing out, sounding utterly destroyed, and Liam feels even worse. Like Zayn can sense that though, he nudges Liam away and fixes him with a hard gaze. “No, Liam. Don’t do that. Babe, please don’t blame yourself. It’s not – it’s not your fault, alright? This is hard. It’s – we both need to work on it.”_

_Liam bites his lip because he doesn’t think that’s true. Zayn’s doing his best. It’s Liam that can’t handle it._

_Zayn’s eyes widen, and he looks even guiltier. “Oh, Liam, promise me that you won’t blame yourself for this. Promise me that you won’t do that. I don’t want you to do that. I want you to be happy Liam, always happy.”_

_And Liam shouldn’t. He shouldn’t make promises that he can’t keep but –_

_“I always give you whatever you want, Zayn. Whatever you want, no matter what.”_

_Zayn’s shoulders hitch slightly, but they don’t move apart. They cling to each other instead, and Liam lets himself believe that it will get better._

But the look fades behind Zayn’s eyes as he chews at his bottom lip, and it’s too much again. It’s too hard to be here with Zayn when he looks like he’s trying to remember, and Liam’s suddenly terrified that he will.

He wants Zayn to remember; he does, but not right in front of him. Liam won’t be able to stand it if he has to watch as Zayn remembers how he stopped loving Liam.

He runs away again, as he always seems to be doing these days.

But, he thinks kind of hysterically, Zayn ran away first.

 

* * *

 

Part II:

 

Liam’s not sure why he waits with the other lads when they’re escorting Zayn from the hospital (Which is a fucking lie. He knows exactly why he’s doing it, why he’ll always choose to see Zayn. Because even now, he misses him) but it was clearly a bad decision.

Zayn’s ignoring him.

He should be used to it. Fuck, he really should after two years of Zayn pretty consistently ignoring him, but he didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect Zayn to come walking down the hallway looking stunning in a mix of their clothes, and he sure as fuck didn’t expect to see his joggers barely hanging onto Zayn’s slim hips.

(And the flash of memory: _dragging those same joggers down to bare the black heart inked onto Zayn’s skin, biting hard at it just to hear the way Zayn gasps. “Fuck you, Liam,” he manages, fingers tangling and yanking at Liam’s hair. “Nah, babe,” Liam yanks the material further, allowing Zayn’s cock to spring free. He leans over it so his breath can ghost just barely against Zayn’s skin, driving him wild, “I think I’ll fuck you actually”_ ).

Yeah, he didn’t expect any of that, so if he buries himself against the far back window in the van, it’s for his own preservation.

But he can’t keep himself away when he glances the look on Zayn’s face as they pull up to the hotel. Zayn’s always disliked crowds, not quite suffering from Niall’s claustrophobia, but unhappy in crowds all the same.

He’s speaking without thought, “We announced that you were being release from the hospital.” Zayn blinks at him in complete surprise, and Liam hates that it feels familiar, hates that it feels almost like the past two years, like they’re already back to that. So Liam just finishes his explanation and goes back to his phone, pretending like it didn’t hurt at all to hear Zayn match his casual tone.

The hurt only intensifies when Zayn looks genuinely surprised by the way they all form around him, protecting to him, but Liam ignores it. He pushes all of his emotions down as they speed into the hotel and to the elevator. His skin is itching with the need to get out, to be alone, just to be away from Zayn, and he hates feeling like this. It’s familiar though, and that’s the worst part. Liam’s used to wanting to get away from Zayn now.

The past two years have been a constant push and pull as Liam fought to stay away Zayn. Some days, he’d almost give in. Some days, it’d be like it had been before. Some days, you could swear that they were still together. But other days – other days it was like they could barely stand each other. Other days it was like they were perfect strangers. Other days it was like they hated each other. It never balanced out; they never reached an equilibrium, and Liam honestly doesn’t know who is to blame for that.

He’s so focused on himself that he’s entirely unprepared for the way Zayn slumps against him once they’re in the elevator. His body goes rigid, but Zayn doesn’t notice, and Liam wants to melt into the floor. No, he wants to melt into Zayn’s familiar touch, lock his arm around Zayn’s shoulder and nuzzle his nose into his neck. He wants to let himself touch Zayn, really touch him, for the first time in years, but he _can’t._

He means to push away, he really does, but then Louis’s turning around and Zayn’s finally noticing, and he’s not sure why he does it, but the moment Zayn goes to pull away Liam shakes his head tightly. Zayn responds instantly, going still and keeping himself pressed to Liam, and it both hurts and thrills him, and it’s too much.

When the elevator doors open, Liam’s nearly sprinting out, already yelling at himself for being a fucking idiot. He’s trying to get control of himself, but it shatters the moment he hears Louis’s explanation about their different floors and Zayn’s resigned, “Right, ‘Course.”

He sounds –

Zayn sounds like how Liam feels, broken and wrecked and shattered and a million other adjectives that still can’t manage to convey the way he doesn’t even feel like a person anymore.

Liam knows his pain is all over his face even as he turns to look at Zayn, but he can’t keep this up. He needs to see him. Watching Zayn flinch at his expression just drives it all home. How are they both still so fucked up after two years? How is Liam hurting like it all happened yesterday? At least Zayn has a reason.

Liam doesn’t; he just has his own inability to move on.

 

(And later, when he goes out to clear his head, he finds himself buying Zayn’s cigarettes, and he can’t even hate himself for it. Of course, he’s buying Zayn’s cigarettes. Of course. He sneaks them into Zayn’s room by way of a sympathetic security member, and Liam goes to bed with a headache and an empty spot in his chest where he swears a heart used to exist).

 

* * *

 

They go out the next night, he and Louis and Niall, and Liam tells himself that he won’t pick someone up because he doesn’t need to. This isn’t like after the reality of the breakup set in, and Liam was so desperate to forget Zayn’s touch on his body that he tried to erase it with anyone else’s touch. He’s not that desperate.

 

He’s exactly that desperate. The DJ spots him and the other boys on the floor and plays one of their songs, and it doesn’t even matter which one it is. As soon as Liam hears Zayn’s voice, he’s done for. Always has been, ever since the X Factor, and he has no idea why Zayn’s voice appeals to him so much, but it does. He can’t even count how often he’d press up against Zayn at home, on planes, fuck anywhere, and beg him to sing something, anything. And Zayn would. He always would. He’d sing quietly just for Liam with a soft, fond look in his eyes until Liam forgot that the world outside of them existed.

So Liam hears Zayn’s voice, and the next thing he knows he’s on the dance floor with some girl pressed up against him, and he’s drinking himself stupid.

They’re down some dark hallway, next he knows, and the girl’s on her knees, smirking up at Liam, and for a moment, he doesn’t see this stranger but Zayn. _Zayn on his knees with his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth as he grins up at Liam. ‘C’mon on Li, let me make it up to you. We don’t have a show for another week. You could fuck my throat. Fuck it raw, c’mon babe.’_

It’s so realistic that Liam almost rips away, but he doesn’t. Instead he closes his eyes and tries to stop thinking altogether.

When he comes out of the bathroom, zipping up his trousers and stumbling, a number tucked into his pocket that he’s never going to call, Niall catches him. Liam’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something – anything – to defend himself, but Niall just shakes his head.

“Let’s go back.”

Liam doesn’t argue.

 

* * *

 

Everything is face-paced and always moving, and Liam won’t let it stop. He won’t let his world slow down, because if it does then he can think. If he stops moving, even for a second, he’ll think of Zayn, and he can’t do that. Not without shattering completely.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Liam swears he can still smell the girl’s perfume on him even though he’s showered twice, and he really fucking hates himself. He hates himself because last night he dreamt of Zayn, and it wasn’t even about sex. If it had been, Liam thinks he probably could have forgiven himself, but it wasn’t. Fuck, it was just the two of them wrapped together in a blanket on Liam’s couch, and it could have been an actual memory for all that Liam knows.

And he hates that he’s having flashes of memories assault him like he’s the one with memory loss, but he doesn’t know how to stop it.

He makes his way to the van and climbs in beside Harry, not even bothering to ask where the others are. Paul will grab them after they wander down a few minutes late, like always.

Harry gives him a once over and then frowns. “Who was it?”

Liam groans and throws his head back, blinking up at the ceiling. “Does it matter?”

“It should,” Harry shoots back. “Fuck, Liam, don’t let this be like last time. It’s reckless and dangerous. Not to mention how much it tears you up afterward.”

“I think I can make my own decisions, Haz.”

“Not when those decisions include fucking every stranger that –”

The door opens, and Harry clamps his mouth shut just as Zayn stumbles in. Liam takes one look at him, beanie shoved low over his fucked up hair, face showing every bit of how tired he is, and he just knows that whatever Zayn’s going through right now, it’s worse than what Liam is feeling.

(And it doesn’t help that Liam’s been avoiding him since they got to the hotel. It doesn’t help that immediately Liam wants to ask if Zayn remembers anything yet. It doesn’t matter that he wants to search Zayn’s eyes to see if the distance of the past two years is back in them).

Liam feels his eyes widen though when Zayn climbs in beside him and before he can even think to protest, Zayn’s grumbling, “Hate everything,” and throwing his head onto Liam’s shoulder none too gently.

Liam tenses automatically, and Zayn must feel it because he makes a discontent noise and then buries his face into Liam’s shirt. He presses harder as he inhales, and for a panicked moment Liam wants to shove him off because – _no wait, you might smell that girl from last night._

But Zayn just sighs happily and goes lax, one arm wrapping around Liam’s stomach in a familiar position that smarts against Liam’s raw heart.

“Liam,” Harry’s voice demands, making Zayn groan. Louis and Niall clamber in and then go ominously silent as Zayn burrows further into Liam’s side and it’s –

It’s what he wants.

Suddenly and desperately, it’s all Liam wants. He just needs to feel Zayn against him, soft and comfortable and relaxed like this. He needs Zayn’s touch to erase the foreign touch of the girl last night and all the ones before him. He just – he wants to pretend, and he’s too weak right now to put up a fight.

So when Harry hisses his name again, he answers, “Leave it, Haz.”

He rubs his hand over Zayn’s back until Zayn’s face relaxes further, and then he leaves his arm wrapped around him for the ride to the studio, ignoring Harry’s look of disapproval and that little voice in his head whispering that this is a bad idea.

When they arrive, he knows for a fact that the little voice in his head was right. He doesn’t want to let go. Something that tastes like panic flows over him, and his arm automatically squeezes Zayn closer, like someone’s trying to take him away. Like maybe they already have taken him away once before, and Liam doesn’t want them to do it again.

Except – no one took Zayn last time. Zayn left.

And that’s all that Liam needs to remember before he’s waking Zayn up. He tries to gentle him awake, achingly aware that they’re alone except for the driver.

When Zayn refuses to fully wake and just fists his hand in Liam’s shirt instead, he nearly breaks. “Zayn, you have to get up.”

“No.”

“Zayn.”

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines, dragging out Liam’s name in that beautiful (horrible) way he used to, and Liam’s instantly done. He shuts down again, locking it all away, because Zayn never says his name like that anymore. Liam shifts until Zayn finally grumbles and lifts himself up, rubbing a hand through his hair and asking, “We here?”

No one answers because Liam’s too busy keeping himself together, and the driver is steadily ignoring both of them. It’s just too much – too close to how it used to be. All of it’s familiar, from the way Zayn snuggled into him to the roughness of his voice just now, and Liam – he can’t. It’s like a collision of past and present and the future that Liam so desperately wants, but none of it is reality.

He knows he must look a sight, pressed against the window like he is with so much space between him and Zayn, and it’s no surprise that Zayn’s eyes widen in understanding immediately.

“Shit!” A choked sound follows that Liam knows he himself has made, and he hates knowing that he and Zayn are still so similar. “Fuck, Liam, why didn’t you shove me away?”

Liam’s eyes narrow, and anger grips him hard. How dare Zayn accuse him? How dare he when – Liam cuts himself off. “Didn’t get much of a chance.”

He barely feels a small spike of pleasure at the hurt look on Zayn’s face before he’s nearly whispering, “You can’t let me do that,” and he sounds so broken as he continues that Liam hates himself, “Liam, I forget still sometimes. You can’t let me –”

“Fine,” he cuts him off, suddenly just wanting out. He doesn’t want to trade shots and guilt with Zayn right now. “Fine, Zayn, just let me out.”

“Liam –”

And that’s just fucking it. “You expect it to be easy for me,” Liam can’t keep this small piece of truth locked away anymore. “It’s like you think I can just push you away, put you in this separate space away from me. It isn’t easy for me either. None of this is easy!”

He knows it was too much instantly. Zayn’s just staring at him, confused, and Liam knows it’s because he was too honest. It was too obvious, in his voice, how hurt he is right now, and because Zayn thinks that Liam broke up with him, he doesn’t understand why Liam would be upset. It’s such a fucking joke, but Liam’s not laughing. He hates it, but he can’t fix it either, not without hurting Zayn, and despite everything, he never wants to hurt Zayn.

So he sighs and shuts himself down. “Just let me out.”

Zayn does, without a fight, and Liam’s mind whispers, _of course he’s not fighting. He didn’t fight for you before, why would he –_

Liam stomps away from the van, ignoring the pitying looks of their security team. He doesn’t want their pity. He doesn’t want anything.

 

The interview sucks. Liam handles it like he always does, fielding most of the questions because that’s just what he does, but the entire time he’s thinking of Zayn. Zayn who is sitting just beside him. Zayn who has barely said anything. Zayn who, when Liam had apologized to him earlier for snapping, had just looked at Liam with guilt-wrecked eyes that were so startlingly familiar Liam had stopped breathing for a second.

He doesn’t want to go back to how things were.

It’s a startling realization, but it’s so true that Liam’s teeth ache with how much he doesn’t want it. He has no idea what he wants, but he knows he won’t be able to go back to guilt-ridden looks and silences that should never exist between them. But he has no control over that. It’s all up to Zayn, Zayn and his memory.

When the interviewer directly addresses Zayn for the first time, Liam tenses (and he’s been tensing so much lately, it’ll be a miracle if his back isn’t permanently fucked up). Zayn’s clearly not been paying attention because he startles.

With a forced smile, the interviewer asks, “How’s the engagement going?”

If Liam thought he was tense before, it’s nothing to the way his back locks now. He’s always had a problem controlling his reaction when Zayn’s asked about Perrie, always, and it didn’t change once he and Zayn broke up. In fact, it got worse. He’s thrown by the question now though for some reason, and he can tell Zayn is too.

He rubs at his eye, clearly stunned, before he mumbles, “’m not.”

It’s so clear to Liam what he said that for a moment Liam’s sure the interviewer’s going to gasp, and Liam wants to join her. _What the fuck?_ He can’t think, can barely string words together because no. No, Zayn did not just say that. No way. If Zayn wasn’t engaged anymore, Liam would know. Surely someone would have told him.

Right?

The interviewer just looks confused, and with great difficulty, Liam makes himself slip back into his public persona. He’s not a boy who just found out his ex-boyfriend – his ex-fucking-everything – is possibly no longer engaged to someone else. He’s Liam Payne, and that’s it.

“I’m sorry?” the interviewer questions, and Liam knows there was barely a pause between Zayn’s mutter and her speaking, but it felt like an infinity to him.

“Zayn’s a bit tired this morning,” Louis butts in before Zayn can scramble for an answer. “Bloody princess, he is.”

It was a nice cover, Liam thinks distantly, really well done by Louis, and when they all fall into banter and teasing, Liam joins because he has to. But the majority of his mind is still focused on Zayn’s automatic answer: _‘m not._

And he has nothing but time to think about it as the other boys take over the rest of the interview. He let himself believe it, right after Zayn answered, for that endless moment Liam really let himself believe, but it’s impossible. There’s no way Zayn wouldn’t have told someone if he and Perrie had ended things before, and no way it could have happened after he woke up. No one would break up after their significant other had suffered memory loss. No one.

With a wince, Liam feels a little spark of hope – one he hadn’t even realized existed – die in his chest. Of course Zayn and Perrie aren’t really over. Zayn had clearly just forgotten, and Liam was a fool to think it had been anything else.

When they all file into the dressing room after thanking the interviewer and concluding the interview, Zayn almost immediately knows that Liam’s pissed. Liam can tell because his relieved slump disappears, and he watches Liam yank on his shirt with wide eyes.

Liam doesn’t mean to say anything about it, really he doesn’t, but then he happens to catch Zayn’s eye and – “Nice answer, Zayn,” he sneers before he can think about it.

The way Zayn stiffens is almost painful, and how could Liam have forgotten that Zayn’s got a temper? It’s obvious now, in the dark edge in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Lads –” Niall tries, sounding calm and restrained.

“Can’t believe you mumbled that you aren’t engaged,” Liam barrels over him, refusing to be counseled right now. “Real nice to dismiss your fiancée like that.”

“What?”

“I mean you asked her to marry you,” Liam continues on recklessly, relishing in the pain, embracing the flare of hurt. “Did you forget or something? Thought you loved her.”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth because – shit. _Did you forget or something?_ So unintentionally cruel because that’s exactly what happened. Zayn forgot, and Liam can’t believe that he said that.

Liam expects anger or hurt, but instead, he’s thrown completely when Zayn just looks at him in confusion and says, “I – we broke up.”

Liam can’t believe it. He can’t focus on anything. It’s exactly like he first thought in the interview. Zayn and Perrie, they really are over. There’s no denying the honestly in Zayn’s eyes, the confusion as he looks around, like he expected Liam to know that already, like it isn’t a complete bombshell that’s still wreaking havoc in Liam’s mind.

When Zayn turns back to Liam, Zayn clearly sees the horror on Liam’s face, and he knows that Zayn’s realized Liam hadn't been aware.

And Liam knows it’s the truth, but he still – “What?”

“Perrie and I,” Zayn says slowly with only a moment’s hesitation, “broke up. She called off the engagement. We aren’t together.”

“But I – she came to the hospital!”

“Somebody called her,” Zayn shrugs like it doesn’t matter, like this isn’t completely shaking Liam’s world to pieces. “Management –”

“You guys aren’t together,” Liam repeats uselessly because he knows it’s the truth but he still doesn’t get it. He physically cannot comprehend. “Since when?”

“She said for a while –”

“Zayn!” Liam snaps because what? No. No, there’s no way Zayn would keep that to himself, would let Liam keep hurting when –

“A month,” Zayn whispers, condemning himself. “She called it off a month ago.”

Liam barely hears Louis softly calling his name, barely sees him reaching out like he means to comfort him. He’s suddenly so irrationally angry, at Zayn, at Perrie, at everyone.

He turns on Louis, wanting someone to blame, and Louis’s an easy target, always with Zayn, always taking his side. “Did you know?” he’s hysterical as he demands an answer. “Did you all know?” He won’t be able to forgive them if they did. He’s falling apart here, and the only thing to hold onto is this all-consuming anger.

“I didn’t tell anyone when it happened,” Zayn interrupts. “Apparently, I kept it to myself.”

Liam stares at him, still not comprehending it fully. He can’t wrap his head around the idea that Zayn is single. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything between them, but it feels important. It feels necessary, like Liam was only keeping himself together because Zayn was completely unavailable. It feels like it’s going to be so much harder now to keep away from him, and that’s –

“This is – I can’t –” he tries to put it into words, but his breath is coming hard. The need to run away strikes him again, and Liam gives in. He turns on his heel and flees the dressing room.

He nearly sprints down the hallway and when he comes to a stop, he leans his hands on his knees. Closing his eyes against the overwhelming dizziness, Liam just focuses on breathing. He can’t think about it, won’t let himself. It doesn’t change anything. He has to keep telling himself that, because it’s the truth. Zayn being single changes nothing.

(Except it changes everything, because how many times did Liam stop himself from begging for Zayn back just because of Perrie? How many nights did Liam contemplate seeking Zayn out just for sex – so willing to break himself more if it meant Zayn would just _touch_ him – only to stop because of Perrie? And now that’s gone. That final barrier, it’s not there anymore. And Liam has no idea what that means for his defenses).

He hears footsteps and doesn’t even open his eyes. It’ll be Harry. It’s always Harry. The bond they made – both broken by boys they can’t stop loving – is unshakable. So Liam just asks, “Want to go out?”

And Harry agrees with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

 Liam is smashed.

He’s having trouble staying upright on the dance floor, and he’s lost track of the boy he followed out here hours ago. His head pounds with the bass, and he thinks he’ll never see right again because of the lights. Harry’s disapproval can be felt from meters away where he’s at the bar with a crowd surrounding him, and it’s been hours since they should have left.

But Liam’s got a new guy dancing in front of him, and none of it matters.

This new guy – some waifish bloke that swept into Liam’s embrace between one beat of the song and the next, minutes or hours ago – hasn’t said a word, but he dances like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Liam has no idea what his name is or what he really looks like beyond the general, vague impressions he’s gotten, but when he presses back on Liam’s cock and grinds, those details fade away. He’s warm and quick and he throws his head back and laughs every time the song changes, and Liam just doesn’t care.

He spins him suddenly, taking the slighter boy by surprise before he grins up at Liam like this is what he actually wanted. Liam barely takes in his appearance – fine features, blonde hair and some variation of light eyes, blue or green or grey – before he’s leaning down and saying, “Yeah?”

It’s all he needs to say, he knows. The one word is enough invitation for almost everybody, and if that was shocking to Liam at first, the surprise has long since faded.

The boy grins, triumphant, and nods as he tangles his fingers with Liam. “Bathroom?” he suggests easily like he really wouldn’t mind being bent over in a filthy stall, and Liam has no room to judge but –

_“Fuck, Liam,” Zayn moans, fingers carving stripes into the paint of the bathroom stall. He’s holding himself away from it, palms flat as he arches his back so prettily, fucking himself harder on the two fingers Liam has buried in him. “We are not fucking in a dirty bathroom. It’s unsanitary, and we aren’t animals.”_

_Liam chuckles, screwing his fingers directly on Zayn’s prostate just to hear the hitch in his breath. “Sure about that, babe?” he teases. “Y’ sound like you want it.”_

_“No.” Zayn’s denial is contradicted by his actions as he fucks back harder than before. His trousers are tangled around his thighs, pants pulled down just enough to expose his ass to the air and Liam’s gaze. Liam takes full advantage of the devastating sight of Zayn Malik half-dressed in formal wear and looking thoroughly rumpled. He watches his fingers fuck into his boyfriend, and for a moment, he almost contemplates getting down on his knees and making Zayn fall apart on his tongue instead._

_It’s tempting but –_

_“Liam,” Zayn warns, voice cracking but still serious. “I mean it. Not here. C’mon. Take me back to the hotel. I want –”_

_Liam bites the back of Zayn’s neck to quiet him, soothing the skin with a kiss almost immediately. His cock is straining against the zip of his suit, and he honestly hadn’t intended for it to go this far when he’d crowded Zayn into the empty stall. He’d just wanted a quick snog, but then Zayn had reacted so gorgeously, and well Liam can’t really be blamed when his boyfriend is Zayn freaking Malik._

_“Come and we can go,” he bargains breathily. He won’t really press Zayn into this – and he definitely won’t fuck him in the bathroom, knowing that Zayn’s dead serious about that – but he thinks Zayn’s already so close and willing so –_

_“I swear I’ll take you back to the hotel, but you need to come first,” he continues. “C’mon Zayn you sound like you want to, and I want to hear you. Just let go babe, and I swear I’ll make it so good when we get the hotel.”_

_“Li,” Zayn gasps._

_“Come,” Liam nearly begs, wanting to hear it desperately because nothing will ever sound as good as Zayn falling apart underneath him._

_Zayn does after Liam presses hard against his prostate again, and the sight and sound are just as beautiful as Liam knew they would be. Zayn’s back shudders as Liam presses himself bodily against his boyfriend, barely managing not to grind off against him. When Zayn finally goes lax underneath him, Liam tilts his head easily for a kiss._

_“Hotel,” he nearly growls when he breaks away, tongue tracing his own bottom lip like he’s catching Zayn’s taste._

_Zayn laughs, still catching his breath but eyes twinkling in amusement._

_“What?”_

_Zayn just shakes his head. “Only for you, Liam Payne. I’d only let you finger me off in some posh bathroom in clothes that cost more than most homes.”_

_A possessive thrill races through Liam’s chest, and he has to make himself back off before he really does push Zayn into sex in this bathroom. “Hotel,” he demands again._

_Zayn presses another quick kiss to his lips, surprising Liam as he tangles their fingers. “Of course, babe,” Zayn agrees. “Gonna make you pay for this suit we ruined though.”_

Liam swears he can hear their joint laughter echoing from his memories over the pulsing club music, and he’s quick to say, “No. Not the bathroom.” Definitely not the bathroom, not when Zayn’s so close to the surface of his mind.

(And Zayn’s constantly been there, only pushed back with every fresh drink Liam poured down his throat, but it’s still too – Liam still hasn’t got himself under control so he really needs this boy to make him forget).

“Back to mine,” Liam states, not even bothering to phrase it as a question because he knows this boy won’t say no. No one ever does. Sure enough, the boy’s eyes light up, and then Liam’s tugging him off the dance floor and towards his waiting security. He catches Harry’s eye for an instant, but it’s enough for Harry to peel himself away from the crowd of people surrounding him and follow.

When they reach their security team, Harry eyes the boy up but makes no comment.

(And he shouldn’t anyway. If this boy happens to be the complete opposite of Zayn, well that’s Liam’s business).

 

Liam struggles with the hotel door because the boy – Mark or Matt or some other common M name that Liam would’ve forgotten by morning anyways – is pressed tightly to his front, nipping at the underside of his jaw as one hand gropes at Liam’s ass through his back pocket. It feels good, distracting just like Liam wanted, and the buzz of too many drinks is still humming in Liam’s veins so when he gets the green light signaling the door is open on his fourth try, he figures that that’s actually pretty well done.

Liam laughs as they almost fall through the door, and the boy echoes him with a high-pitched giggle. It makes Liam laugh again, and he presses a thankful but sloppy kiss to the boy’s cheek because he’s so grateful. He feels light and free, and his head is clouded, and it’s nice. When he pulls away he grins down at the stranger wrapped in his arms, thoughts of Zayn hidden behind a window of lust that Liam’s all too familiar with, but he doesn’t care. Not right now.

He’s already thinking of where he stashes his condoms, eager to fuck and lose himself, when a slight noise – something like a gasp – snatches his attention. Both he and the stranger whip their heads toward the noise and – _oh._

Liam’s not sure if he releases the boy or if the boy steps away because he can’t look anywhere but at Zayn. For one hilarious moment he actually thinks that he’s conjured Zayn up, gotten so fucked up that he’s imagining him (and it’s terrifying that it’s actually happened before) but then he registers the expression on Zayn’s face and –

No. Liam would have never imagined Zayn like this.

He can’t even really focus on his face, but his body language says enough. He’s absolutely rigid, painfully so, and every muscle is tensed like he’s seconds away from fleeing, and Liam knows that stance so well.

Pain – fresh and real and brand new somehow – races through Liam and shatters the clouded feeling Liam had so carefully cultivated.

“You’re Zayn!” the stranger’s exclamation shatters the moment, and Liam flinches, just barely managing to grab the kid’s arm before he can approach Zayn because Zayn looks like he’ll hit him if he gets too close.

Anger twists Zayn’s face until he’s almost ugly with it, and Liam doesn’t think he’s ever seen such hatred in Zayn’s eyes, and he doesn’t get it for a moment. Zayn’s faced much worse than this kid so why – but then Liam understands. He gets it because he’s felt it before.

_Liam’s walking backstage, just wandering because he has time before the show starts and he can’t stand to sit and wait because he used to do that with – But no. He’s not thinking about that, about the newly torn holes in his life that he’s still discovering even months later because he’s the idiot who interwove his life so completely with Zayn’s that he’s not sure he even has a life now that Zayn’s ripped himself out of it._

_When he rounds the next corner then, he’s entirely unprepared for the sight that greets him. Zayn’s wrapped around Perrie, hunched into a doorway with his head tilted down so he can easily whisper in her ear, and his cheek is pushed up like he’s smirking, and Liam knows that look. He knows that arrogance intimately, could probably quote whatever Zayn’s whispering to Perrie right now judging from the pink flush on her face._

_For one endless moment, all Liam can feel is overwhelming betrayal. It floods him, and he’s instantly trying to deny what he’s seeing because Zayn would never cheat on him. He would never –_

_But then Liam remembers. He remembers that they aren’t together anymore, and that Zayn isn’t actually cheating on him at all._

_It breaks him in an all new way, and Liam has to stumble away before he can completely fall apart. But at the last second, Zayn glances up, and their eyes interlock. Zayn’s eyes widen in guilt, and Liam’s wiping furiously at his face, trying to disguise the tears. He turns and runs before Zayn can so much as move._

So he knows immediately exactly what Zayn is feeling right now, and the guilt that overwhelms him is staggering. “Zayn –” he starts, not even sure what he could possibly say right now.

Understanding floods Zayn’s face, and it kills Liam that they can still read each other so well. How many times did he and Zayn have silent conversations? How many times did they understand exactly what the other one was thinking? Too many to count, but Liam never thought they’d still be able to do it.

But they have, they are, because he knows that Zayn’s just remembered they aren’t together, that Liam can’t cheat on him. So Liam’s not even surprised when Zayn says nothing and just shoves past him.

He’s stunned into inaction for one breathless instant and then –

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts to the stranger, who looks completely mystified. Liam pushes away from him, already backing towards the door. His blood is calling for Zayn, drawing him down the hall because he can’t stand the thought of Zayn dealing with his emotions alone right now. Not when Liam knows exactly what he’s feeling.

“Wait but –”

Liam just shakes his head. “Sorry. If you go to the next room over, one of our security guys will take you home. I can’t – I’ve got to go after him. I’m so sorry!”

It’s the shittiest excuse Liam’s ever given in his life probably, but he doesn’t care. He’s already running down the hall, and his heart drops when Zayn’s not standing in front of the elevator. He nearly breaks the button as he jabs at it because no.

No he can’t let Zayn think –

He won’t let Zayn feel –

Zayn can’t be alone right now.

He’s not sure exactly what changed in that moment when their eyes locked, but something did. Liam doesn’t care suddenly that Zayn broke his heart two years ago. It doesn’t matter, not when Zayn’s falling apart right now.

When the elevator door opens on Zayn’s floor, Liam shoves into his room, alarmed that in his distress Zayn left the door open. The room’s empty and for a moment Liam feels absolute panic, but then he hears a noise in the bathroom.

He’s wholly unprepared for the sight that greets him when he pauses in the doorway.

Zayn’s curled into himself on the bathroom floor, hair a wreck and head tilted down in defeat. He’s spine looks so fragile from this angle, like he’s breakable. A scrap of fabric is clutched in his hands, and he’s burying his face in it. It takes a second but Liam recognizes his own shirt and Zayn’s tears soaking it.

“Zayn.” It’s nothing more than a whisper because Liam’s throat feels raw.

Zayn shoots up, startling Liam back and out of the doorway. Using that, Zayn darts past him, throwing away the shirt as he heads immediately back towards the hallway.

“Zayn!”

The way Zayn stops automatically hits Liam hard, and he hates himself. He hates both of them actually, for being like this. For still having so much control over each other, and a small part of Liam knows that it’s only two-sided right now because Zayn’s lost his memory, but he can’t seem to care.

“Zayn, Christ, are you okay?” he rambles, anxiety crackling in his bones. “Why were you in the bathroom? What –”

He hadn’t even realized he touched Zayn until Zayn rips away from him.

“Don’t touch me!” His voice cracks like thunder, ripping the air between them.

Liam stumbles back, face caving under his shock because – it’s the first time Zayn’s pulled away from him like that since he woke up. It settles hard in the bottom of Liam’s lungs, weighing him down, because it’s entirely familiar. How many times just after their breakup – when Liam was desperate and pathetic and begging for Zayn back – had Zayn done exactly that?

“Zayn –” his voice breaks.

“No. Just leave it, Liam. I don’t want –”

“But you –”

“Get out of my room!”

“You were in mine first!” He hates himself almost immediately for the childish retort, but Liam couldn’t bite it back. Zayn’s anger is cutting open old wounds that Liam had thought scarred over months ago. They bleed fresh though under the force of Zayn’s hurt.

The way Zayn slumps speaks of a bone deep defeat that Liam hates immediately. “I needed one of your shirts,” he says, voice clear but empty of feeling.

“What?” Liam thinks back to the shirt clenched in Zayn’s fist in the bathroom.

“I stole one of your shirts,” Zayn scrubs harshly at his face as he admits it, almost laughing like he finds the whole thing hilarious. “I can’t sleep, so I took one of your shirts to sleep in, because fuck me if it doesn’t still help.”

It blindsides Liam, the way Zayn’s admitting this weakness. Zayn never shows his soft spots, never admits anything, and the fact that he’s doing so – Liam can’t think about it. So he focuses on something else instead. “You can’t sleep?”

The irritated look Zayn shoots him hardly registers as Liam takes in Zayn’s appearance. He studies him, really looks at him for the first time since he was unconscious in the hospital, and his heart drops at what he sees.

Zayn looks exhausted. He’s worn down as he hasn’t been since before he broke up with Liam. The bugs under his eyes look like bruises, and his hair is flat and limp. He looks thinner too, like somehow he’s lost weight in just a handful of days, his face looking gaunt and strained. He looks half-dead, and it’s exactly how Liam’s felt for going on two years now. Barely alive, hardly functioning, beaten down and on the brink of giving up.

Zayn shoves past Liam before he can even hope to say something, and Liam turns automatically to watch him. He’s confused when Zayn marches back into the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush to scrub vigorously at his mouth.

“Zayn,” he nearly whispers. “Why are you brushing your teeth? What the fuck –”

Zayn rinses out his mouth before stating, “Because I hate the taste in my mouth after I throw up.”

“You threw up?”

The way Zayn crosses his arms over himself screams self-defense as he faces off with Liam. “Yes, Liam,” he hisses. “I threw up. I’ve been throwing up. I’m pretty sure I’ve thrown up every day since waking up in fucking hospital.”

Liam’s mind instantly thinks of concussions and warnings about head injuries and dizziness and throwing up and Zayn’s scans and his brain injury and – “Tell a doctor!” he nearly screams in his sudden panic because Zayn could be dying. “Christ Zayn, tell –”

“It’s not because of my head, Liam,” Zayn snorts. “Fuck. You think I just threw up because my _head_ hurts?”

What he’s implying hits Liam hard. Liam suddenly remembers the way Zayn used to look nauseous when he was truly bothered by something, the way he really did throw up when he found out his aunt had died. It’s – Liam doesn’t even want to think about the fact that he’s been hurting Zayn so much he’s been throwing up.

“Just go,” Zayn sighs out. “I don’t know why you even followed me. You looked busy.”

It hits Liam like a slap because he’d honestly forgotten. But now – “I sent him home,” he admits.

“He’ll have a great story.”

“No one will believe it. And I don’t think he was like that.” It’s stupid, what Liam’s saying. Useless details that have nothing to do with the real issue, but he can’t help but say them.

“So, what?” Zayn demands, clearly unwilling to argue about something so inconsequential. “You came to tell me that you sent him home? Great. Excellent. Glad to hear it.”

He says it so flippantly, like he doesn’t give a shit, but Liam knows that isn’t true. He _knows_. He saw Zayn’s face, and he can’t possibly leave it alone. “You looked like you caught me cheating.”

Zayn chokes on a protest.

“You asked me why I followed you,” Liam explains, trying to remain calm. “That’s why. Your face, the way you looked – it was like you had caught me cheating. You looked – and then I felt guilty. Ridiculous, innit? I actually felt guilty, like I’d really cheated.” He should admit that he knows this because he’s felt it, but he’s unwilling. He doesn’t want to expose himself to Zayn like that, not when he’s already so vulnerable.

Zayn looks away like he doesn’t want to talk about it either, and it reminds Liam that as vulnerable as he is with Zayn, Zayn’s just as vulnerable with him. At least for right now. With Zayn’s memories gone, they’re on even footing for the first time since Zayn threw them off balance. It’s –

It’s actually fucking heartbreaking. Liam hates that he only feels even with Zayn because they’re both hurting. He hates that he’s doing exactly what he said he didn’t want to do – hurting Zayn like Zayn had hurt him. Guilt coats his tongue so thickly he can’t swallow. He didn’t want this. He thought he was being selfless in the hospital, refusing to take this chance to get back together with Zayn because Zayn couldn’t remember. It felt wrong.

But now it doesn’t.

It doesn’t quite feel right either, and there’s still that lingering fear that Zayn will get his memories back and cast Liam away again but –

Liam doesn’t care.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t care anymore, why he’s so willing to risk everything all over again, but he is.

He just – He wants Zayn.

Abruptly he asks, “Are you and Perrie really over?”

He can tell he takes Zayn by surprise, but the question feel absolutely necessary to him. He can’t do this – be with Zayn again, that’s what he’s thinking about – if Perrie’s still in the picture. It’s not right. He’s already fucked up enough, taking advantage of Zayn’s forgotten memories, without adding cheating onto it.

“Of course.”

“And you don’t love her?”

Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up as Liam steps closer to him. “Love her? Fuck, Liam, I don’t even know her. Of course I don’t love her.”

It halts Liam, the way Zayn phrased that. Like he only doesn’t love Perrie because he can’t remember her. It hits too close to Liam’s hesitation about doing this. He can’t – he wants Zayn but – “You did though. You loved her.”

There’s nothing that hurts so much as the person you love loving someone else, and Liam might be aching for Zayn, but he can’t let himself be with someone who could love someone else. He can’t do it.

“No.”

Liam’s head snaps up, and he’s staring at Zayn in shock because – what? Zayn can’t mean that. He can’t – he doesn’t even remember so he can’t mean –

But Zayn looks adamant and certain. Not an ounce of hesitation shines out of his dark eyes as he stares evenly at Liam.

“Zayn you proposed to her,” Liam barely breathes.

“I didn’t love her.”

It’s everything Liam’s always wanted to hear, and he desperately wants to believe Zayn. But Zayn’s lacking memory stands between them, and he can’t let himself hope only to be let down. “Zayn –”

“I love you.”

 _I love you too._ It nearly trips off of Liam’s tongue, and he barely manages to keep it locked behind his teeth. He can’t say it. He wants to – fuck, he wants to because it’s true; it’s always been true – but he can’t.

“You don’t –” Liam tries to force out, his racing heart distracting him.

“I know what I feel, Liam,” and Zayn’s determination is so honest, so purely Zayn in an achingly familiar way. This is the Zayn Liam most remembers, his Zayn. A boy who never backed down from the way he loved people, was never embarrassed, never afraid. “I love you,” he continues, unknowingly breaking down every barrier Liam’s managed to erect between them. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always –”

Liam’s on Zayn before he can think better of it. Before his mind can toss up a reason he shouldn’t – a million reasons he shouldn’t – Liam’s shoving Zayn back into the bathroom counter, kissing him hard as he gasps. Zayn groans as his hands grip Liam’s hair hard, and if Liam thought Zayn wouldn’t respond he was wrong. Zayn pushes back just as hard, tongue tangling with Liam’s as Liam deepens the kiss.

It isn’t the kiss Liam intended, not the one he imagined on his worst nights when he’d let himself think about getting back together with Zayn. That kiss was always soft, gentle, forgiving. This kiss has none of those qualities.

Liam pours his hurt and frustration and anger into this kiss, and he can almost taste Zayn’s answering confusion and helplessness, and he knows that this kiss is going to hurt. They’re going to bruise each other, shatter their edges and have to put themselves back together again.

Liam wants it.

He wants to destroy the person he has become in Zayn’s absence, wants to completely wreck the two boys who are barely above strangers to each other. He can’t stand the thought of slowly inching their way back together. He doesn’t care how much it hurts; he wants this now.

When Zayn shifts so their hips are slotted, Liam ruts into him without thought. He’s hard already, straining against his trousers, and he shifts so he can feel the reassuring press of Zayn’s dick against his. Despite his desperation, a small abused part of his heart is calling out for reassurance, a need to know that Zayn feels the same. That Zayn wants him again.

“Li –” Zayn’s voice is high with arousal, and it drives Liam further. Zayn’s tongue on his birthmark makes his heart hitch in remembered agony. “Leeyum,” the familiar nickname falls from Zayn’s panting mouth. “Please, I need –”

The hem of Zayn’s shirt is in his hands before Zayn finishes speaking. Liam nearly tears it in his haste, but Zayn responds so easily. He readily strips, fingers tugging Liam back so their bare chests can brush after Liam tugs off his own shirt, and the keen Zayn releases makes Liam’s blood run so hot he feels cold. He pushes hard enough into Zayn’s skin to leave bruises because he hasn’t been able to mark this boy in two years.

Zayn guides them back into another kiss, his hands falling almost immediately to their trousers. When Liam feels him fumble with the clasps, he knocks Zayn’s hands away and hurriedly undoes his trousers.

“Fuck yes,” Zayn sucks in a sharp breath when Liam traces over the line of Zayn’s dick, barely covered in his pants.

He can’t fight the smirk tugging at his lips as he roughly traces Zayn’s jaw down to his collarbone, biting hard just to hear Zayn hiss in pleasure.

“Liam.”

He just chuckles, lost to the haze of lust and enjoying the way he’s driving Zayn mad. He traces tattoos with his tongue he’s never touched before, pained by the presence of ink he doesn’t know. But he’ll know them now. He’s going to taste every new tattoo on Zayn’s body tonight, make sure this boy is his once again.

He’s just about to move back up and kiss Zayn when he hears it.

“Jaan.”

A shock travels down his spine, locking him up immediately like he’s been struck by lightning. Zayn’s eyes open, blown with lust and confusion, and Liam’s ripping himself away immediately.

_Fuck. No. No, no, no, no, no._

His heart feels like it’s screaming, a wordless cry of agony.

“Liam, what –”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” he snaps, words coming out so hard because he can’t control it. He can’t control anything right now. He feels like he’s falling apart, undone by a simple fucking word.

But it was never just a word, not to him.

The first time Zayn called Liam jaan, in Zayn’s bed after only months of being together, was the first time Liam felt like he could actually hold onto Zayn. Before that, Liam just wasn’t sure. Zayn was so perfect, so – so just _everything_ that Liam felt painfully inadequate next to him. His insecurities whispered to him every single day, but the moment Zayn called him that – a word that was intrinsically tied to Zayn’s life, his real life, his home life, part of his identity – Liam knew. Whatever this was overtaking him, whatever he felt for Zayn, Zayn felt for him.

_It means life, like, you are my life._

The _I love you_ Liam had been holding back for months felt small in comparison, so Liam had clumsily proclaimed Zayn the same thing to him. Life. Zayn was his life, as he was Zayn’s.

But while Zayn might still feel like Liam’s life, he’s no longer Zayn’s.

“Liam –”

“No,” his tone is brutal, but he feels savage. Rage is tearing him to pieces, and he has to leave. He has to go now before he does something, ruins another part of himself. “Fuck this. I can’t believe –”

He can’t believe that he let himself hope.

“Li, wait, I –”

Liam ignores him and goes.

His head is nothing but static, and he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t want to think. All the way back to his hotel room, he lets himself disappear into that numb nothingness.

Even once he’s inside he doesn’t let himself think. He just stands in the center of the room, shirtless and disheveled and empty. He’s so fucking empty. He’s given Zayn everything so many times now that there’s nothing left, and before it was a trade. He gave Zayn parts of himself for parts of Zayn, but now there’s no trade. He’s giving himself away, but Zayn’s giving nothing back, and maybe that’s Liam’s own fault. After all, Zayn’s got nothing to give with two years missing, and Liam’s the one who started something he shouldn’t have.

He’d never even gotten an explanation for Zayn’s words, but that’s nothing new.

He’s an idiot. A fool. Naïve, as he’s always been, and now he’s paying the price. How many times can he shatter his heart before he stops feeling anything?

His mum has always accused him of feeling too strongly, and he thinks bitterly that now that won’t be a problem. He doesn’t feel a goddamn thing.

A pounding on his door gets his attention, but he doesn’t even think about it until he hears Harry’s voice.

“Liam James Payne! Get your arse out here!”

He wrenches open the door (because despite his new numbness, he still owes Harry a lot) to see the tall boy looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Harry, what are you –”

“Did you tell Zayn that you broke up with him?”

Liam sucks in a gasp of air, eyes automatically sliding just past Harry. He’s not even surprised to see Zayn hovering there, looking uncertain. A muted flash of pain strikes his gut.

“Harry, no, it wasn’t –” he tries because he doesn’t want to do this. He’ll never want to do this, but especially not right now. He’s barely hanging onto his sanity as it is.

“Because that’s what he thinks,” Harry cuts him off, ruthless, Liam’s one defender against Zayn’s casual cruelty over the past two years.

Liam just stares at him, trying to get him to understand, but Harry doesn’t.

(And Liam knows why he doesn’t. Harry’s so protective of Liam, because Liam is his worst fear. He looks at Liam and sees what he could be if Louis ever cut him off completely, and Liam doesn’t blame him for fearing it. Liam gets it).

Liam refuses to back down though, no matter how good Harry’s intentions are. He’s wrong about this, wrong about why Liam hasn’t told Zayn the truth. He doesn’t care what Harry thinks about it; it’s none of his business.

“What’s going on?”

Zayn’s voice makes Liam flinch.

“Tell him, Liam,” Harry demands ominously before departing without another word.

Liam doesn’t even bother to watch him go. He’s too focused on Zayn who looks like he’s started to realize he’s been lied to. It makes Liam ache all over again because he knows he’s trapped now. Zayn will never let it go, but Liam wants to try to make him anyways.

“Zayn –”

Zayn skips back, out of his reach, like he knows it’s just a distraction. His eyes are guarded as he demands, “Tell me what?”

Liam hates himself and Harry and Zayn and every single person that’s even remotely to blame for this. “You should come in. Someone could overhear –”

“Liam, what aren’t you telling me?”

He looks away. Liam’s not even sure why he’s fighting this so hard anymore, but he is. Instinct screams at him to protect Zayn, to always protect Zayn, and since he’s never tried to fight that instinct before, he’s falling back on it now. “Zayn, we really should –”

“Because you’ve been weird since I woke up,” Zayn interrupts him. He sounds slightly hysterical as he continues, “You haven’t been acting right, and I don’t get it. Even if we broke up, it wouldn’t be like this! You weren’t even in my room when I woke up at the fucking hospital! You left me, alone, and I never would have done that. I never would have left you!”

“But you did.”

The words slip out just as they did at the hospital when he’d first told Zayn that they were no longer together, but unlike then, they catch Zayn’s attention now.

“What?”

He closes his eyes because he can’t stand to watch this moment, the moment where he hurts Zayn like Zayn once hurt him. He can’t fight it anymore, doesn’t even want to. He’s so fucking tired, and he still feels numb, and he’s just – he can’t do it anymore.

“You did leave me Zayn,” he says because that’s how he always thinks of it. Zayn broke up with him, yes, but really he left him. He pulled himself out of Liam’s life, carved himself out of his heart with a sloppy hand and didn’t bother to stitch up the wounds. He left.

“No, you –”

“I didn’t break up with you,” Liam whispers. “You broke up with me.”

The silence stretches on so long that Liam eventually opens his eyes.

Zayn looks –

There aren’t words really. Shock is so hard to describe, even when it’s on its own, but Zayn’s not just shocked. He’s hurt and angry and scared and a million other things. Liam knows because all of those emotions crowded him, held him captive, when Zayn broke up with him. There just isn’t a way to describe the way you look when the last thing in the world you expected to happen, happens.

“Zayn,” he sounds tired even to his own ears as he breathes out Zayn’s name. He’s not even sure what he should say. He’s out of words, buried underneath too much to even try to dig out. He doesn’t stop Zayn from studying him, doesn’t try to argue the understanding forming in Zayn’s eyes. If he were a better person he would explain it. He would actually tell Zayn what happened, maybe try to reason it, tell Zayn it happened for a reason. If he were stronger, he would –

But he isn’t.

Liam’s weak.

Zayn makes a sound like a hurt animal but worse because it’s distinctly human, and Liam nearly recoils away from the noise, instincts telling him to get away from that kind of pain. But Zayn’s stumbling away before he does.

The fear in Zayn’s eyes finally snaps Liam into the present, and he’s speaking before he realizes it.

“Zayn,” he gets no reaction, but he keeps repeating it. Throwing in, “There’s more to it. It’s not like it just happened. There were problems. You don’t remember. Zayn.”

Zayn just walks away though, like he doesn’t even hear Liam, and Liam lets him go. He slumps in his doorway and watches Zayn leave.

It hurts, how familiar the sight is. Liam never thought he’d know so well how Zayn looks walking away from him, but he can call the image up in almost perfect detail. It feels just how it did the first time except –

Except this time, Liam’s not trying to stop him.

 

* * *

 

He goes to bed, shoving down pills that he nicked from Niall, who he thinks actually stole them from Zayn himself. Normally, Liam would be opposed to forcing himself into sleep, but he needs it now. He can’t even feel where his body ends, he feels so wrecked. So he lets himself disappear into sleep, grateful for it.

He lets himself go, just for a bit, thinking that tomorrow he’ll deal with everything.

But tomorrow morning he doesn’t get the chance.

He wakes up to Louis yelling at him, a rushed explanation from Paul that feels like a kick in the stomach, and sorrowful looks from Niall and Harry.

_Zayn’s gone._

It hurts so much that Liam can’t even feel it.

_Zayn’s gone._

 

Zayn’s gone, and Liam can’t feel anything.  


	2. Parts III and IV

Part III:

 

Liam goes into autopilot. It’s the only way he can explain it. He stops thinking about what he’s doing, stops consciously being Liam Payne. He still does everything he’s meant to, still plays his part, but he’s not mentally present.

He did this after the break up, fell so far into himself that he hardly knew what he was doing daily, and the lads recognize it and leave him alone.

They leave him alone to think about Zayn.

And he does.

For the first time in almost two years, Liam really lets himself think about Zayn.

He thinks about how they got together, how they moved in together, how they braided their lives together. His mind dances over memories, flitting out of order, from happy to sad without inclination. He doesn’t control it; he just remembers.

_“We are not getting floor-to-ceiling curtains,” Liam snorts, unable to contain his fond eye roll when Zayn pouts back at him._

_“C’mon babe, it’d be sick. We could sleep at any time.”_

_“You already can sleep at any time, and I like the morning.”_

_Zayn shudders. “Who the hell likes the morning? The sun’s all bright and shit.”_

_Liam wraps his arms around Zayn unable to help it when Zayn’s acting the way he is. (When Zayn’s acting any way actually because there isn’t a part of Zayn that Liam doesn’t love completely, even if Zayn’s being ridiculous about their future flat together). “Nothing shines brighter than you babe,” he whispers into his ear, giggling when Zayn groans._

_“Sappy, babe.” Zayn presses a kiss to his cheek after he says it though, like he needs to prove that he doesn’t mean it as an insult, like Liam doesn’t already know he loves it._

_But Liam takes full advantage and turns his head, snagging a kiss and deepening it when Zayn doesn’t immediately pull away._

And remembers –

_“Are all of these mine?” Liam asks amusedly, looking back over his shoulder with the wardrobe’s doors wide open. Zayn hums without looking up from where he’s sketching on the bed._

_“Zayn.”_

_He blinks up at Liam, brow furrowed behind the rims of his glasses. “Yes.”_

_He’s unashamed about the fact that his closet is literally full of only Liam’s shirts, and it melts Liam completely. (That and the fact that Zayn’s wearing his glasses)._

_Liam doesn’t even hesitate as he stalks over to the bed, and he doesn’t miss the smirk Zayn gives him before he kisses him._

And remembers –

_“Don’t go back,” he presses the words into Zayn’s bare shoulder, emboldened by the darkness surrounding them._

_Zayn shifts but doesn’t try to turn fully around. Liam tightens his arms just in case he does try, unwilling to let Zayn go and allow that. “Babe?”_

_Liam’s eyes slide closed at the confusion in Zayn’s face. He struggles against a crushing wave of sadness, making himself focus on the present – on Zayn’s warm, naked body in his arms as they lie in his bed, drifting towards sleep._

_“Just don’t go back,” he mumbles finally, unwilling to explain it further. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s already thinking about tomorrow morning, doesn’t want to admit that he’s terrified he’s going to wake up to an empty bed, doesn’t want to admit that he loathes even saying_ her _name._

_He knows that Zayn understands what he’s not saying, and he waits for Zayn to press it. But Zayn doesn’t._

_“I won’t,” he presses a gentle kiss to the feather inked into Liam’s forearm where it rests under his head. “I won’t, jaan.”_

_Liam doesn’t bother calling him a liar. They both know it’s a promise he can’t keep._

The memories just keep coming, some sad, some happy, some nothing special, and some that mean everything.

_“He’s going to break your heart.”_

_Liam doesn’t move, doesn’t bother to look up at Harry. He just continues to stroke Zayn’s hair and look at his sleeping face._

_Zayn looks very young when he sleeps, younger even than he was when Liam met him. Liam’s kind of addicted to it, watching Zayn sleep. He can’t explain why._

_“Liam.”_

_He sighs because he knows that Harry is just trying to protect him. (And also because a small part of him knows that Harry’s right, but he doesn’t want to think about that right now). When he looks up, Harry’s got a troubled frown on his face as he stares at Zayn, and it makes Liam’s lungs ache. “Harry...”_

_“Don’t even try to deny it,” Harry fixes knowing eyes on Liam, and Liam knows that Harry’s speaking from experience. After all, Harry’s an expert on loving a boy who will only break your heart. “He won’t mean to, and he won’t want to, but he will. He’s going to break your heart, slowly and gradually.”_

_Liam looks at Zayn again, looks at this boy he loves, this boy he fell for the day he met him. He never thought he’d change a thing about their relationship, but he’s suddenly desperate to take back those months they wasted liking each other and doing nothing about it. He wants those months back, wants to claim them because –_

_Because he feels like he’s running out of time._

_“I know.”_

_It’s a broken whisper, a quiet confession that he never thought he’d say out loud._

_He ignores Harry’s gasp, ignores the tears that fall gently down his cheeks, ignores everything but Zayn._

_It’s always been only Zayn._

And that’s Liam’s dirty secret isn’t it? His quiet confession to Harry that haunts him continuously because he said it. _I know._ Because he did, didn’t he?

Liam’s not an idiot. He knew how bad it was getting, how defeated Zayn looked. How could he have missed it when it was right in front of him every single day? He couldn’t have. There was no way to avoid the bags under Zayn’s eyes, the lost look in their depths, the way, towards the very end, that Zayn wouldn’t even _look_ at Liam. Guilt was eating at Zayn, and Liam knew it but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why Zayn couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Why Zayn flinched every time Liam touched him. Why Zayn never touched Liam anymore. But it was tearing Liam apart.

He was dying; that’s what it felt like, watching Zayn stop loving him. He knew it was coming though, had confessed as much to Harry, so Liam’s not sure why it hurt so much when it finally came.

When Zayn finally did the inevitable and broke up with him.

_“We need to break up.”_

_Liam goes perfectly still. He knows what he heard it, knows it but can’t believe it. Not now. Not when they’ve just gotten home from tour, not when they have the promise of uninterrupted time hanging in front of them, not when... not when they finally feel like how they used to._

_He turns very slowly, keeping his hand on the opened front door, to look at Zayn over his shoulder. It smarts instant and sharp like a bee sting when Liam sees that Zayn is standing a good distance away, like he planned this, like he never had any intention of coming inside – coming home with Liam._

_“We need to break up?” he forces himself to repeat, struggling with the words because they make no sense. Not to him._

_All he needs is Zayn. The rest – everything else – feels negotiable._

_But Zayn’s eyes lock on Liam’s, and his voice is steady when he says, “Yes.”_

_And Liam believes it._

_It crushes down on him, concrete drying around him and boxing him in, buried for the rest of his life under_ this. _Zayn’s breaking up with him. He actually is. The inevitable has come, and Liam’s words to Harry from a couple of weeks ago ring in his ears because – because he knew this was coming. Except –_

_Except there’s a difference between thinking he knows it and actually knowing it. A difference of pain – because before, that was faint pain, just the idea of it really, but now – fuck now – now it’s sharp pain. Sharp and present and active because Zayn’s breaking up with him._

_“Come inside.” It’s a harsh demand because that’s all Liam can form right now. He’s crumbling apart, and he can’t do this outside. He hates that he’s halfway in and Zayn’s all the way out, hates how it feels symbolic, like some fucked up metaphor._

_“Liam, I don’t think –”_

_“Come inside, Zayn.”_

_It isn’t a request, and Zayn must know that because he follows Liam inside, watching silently as Liam throws his duffle bag away and kicks it. The emptiness of their flat mocks him, like it already knew._

_Zayn’s leaving._

_Liam’s mind instantly jumps away from the thought, like a hand startling away from something that shocked it. He wants to avoid the pain. So he says quietly, “It’s the first day after the tour.” It matters; it matters to Liam that he thought he had so much time and now it sounds like he has none. He’s not prepared to fight dirty to keep Zayn; he would be if – he had a plan. A plan that was fighting dirty and fighting bloody, but he was willing to do it, just to keep Zayn, but now he doesn’t have time. “It’s the first fucking day after tour Zayn.”_

_Zayn whispers, “I know,” like he gets it. But he really fucking doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything about what Liam’s thinking._

_But he does know that this is shit. It’s obvious in the guilt in his eyes. He knows this is cruel timing, to promise weeks with Liam and take it all away._

_Liam rubs tiredly at his eyes, mind a chaotic mess as he tries to figure out how to stop this. If he just has more time – he can reason with Zayn. He knows. He can make Zayn love him again. He has a plan. He was going to – God, he was going to offer Zayn everything, anything he wanted. He was going to stop fighting; he was going to do better. He was going to back off and let Zayn do what he wanted, to quietly make Zayn fall in love with him again. He was going to –_

_But Zayn’s breaking up with him, right? That’s what he said. “You’re breaking up with me?” Liam asks, like he has to check, like he could have possibly misheard. It’s just so – it’s sudden. He thought he’d have more warning than this._

_Zayn keeps steadily looking at him, which is surprising. His eyes are dark and calm and – and he’s not shaking. He’s not falling apart as he says, “Yes.”_

_It hits Liam like a well-placed kick to his chest, and his heart stops and restarts with the force of his shock. Because –_

_Because Zayn_ means _it._

_He really is – he’s breaking up with Liam._

_“What?” his voice cracks._

_“We’re over,” Zayn says, and this time his voice does shake, just slightly, and Liam has hope. Hope that only twists painfully in his heart when Zayn continues, “I’m sorry, Liam, but we’re done.”_

_Liam can feel himself shaking his head, denying it. He needs to fight; he knows that. He had his plan, he thinks desperately, and it involved being calm and rational and appealing to Zayn like he could handle himself. But he can’t now. Not when he’s looking at Zayn, and he feels like the ground is moving underneath him. All of his carefully laid sentences float away, and all he is left with is blind panic and a desperate need to fight for Zayn._

_“Zayn, no. I know we haven’t been good lately but –”_

_“It’s not about that.” Liam flinches at the easy way Zayn cut him off, like he knew it was coming, like he planned how to do this. And that – that makes it worse. That makes it seem like Zayn really wants – but he can’t. He can’t really want to be over. Liam can’t accept that._

_“What do you mean it’s not about that?” Liam struggles to stay focused on what Zayn’s actually saying and not just what Liam’s brain is supplying. He needs to focus; he needs to fight this. He sounds weak though, can hear it in the waiver in his voice. Always so weak, so desperate for Zayn._

_Zayn looks away, and Liam stops breathing. Shame – that’s the look on Zayn’s face, and no. No he can’t be ashamed. He swore he’d never be ashamed of Liam, but what else could he be ashamed of? Something he’d done? But what could he have –_

_“It’s,” Zayn starts. “Okay, yeah, it is a bit because of how shitty everything’s been lately, Liam, but it isn’t just about that. It’s everything, okay? It’s all – it’s too much.”_

_But Liam’s still thinking about the shame on Zayn’s features, and he can’t comprehend what Zayn could possibly mean. “Zayn, I don’t –”_

_“Like the relationship,” Zayn answers, like he actually wants to say all of this, like it’s possibly been weighing down on him the way words have been weighing down on Liam. And for the first time, Liam wonders if Zayn’s been as unhappy as he has been. It doesn’t seem possible, or right, because Zayn’s the one – he’s the one who led them here. Liam isn’t pathetic enough to think he started them on this path, but he’s willing to shoulder some of the blame, except –_

_Except Zayn sounds like he doesn’t want to take on the blame at all. Zayn’s making it sound like Liam’s been making him unhappy and Liam –_

_He knew neither of them were happy, but he thought that Zayn at least wasn’t drowning under it like he was. He thought it was a different kind of unhappiness, not something he was directly responsible for._

_But –_

_Zayn’s rambling, “Us. We’re too much. I thought it was what I wanted, but I don’t. Christ, I’m only 20. I don’t – I don’t want forever.”_

_Liam’s heart shatters. He can physically hear it, the way it just ceases to exist. The noise he makes is animalistic, but he hardly hears it over the scream of agony his lungs feel like they’re releasing._

_He couldn’t have heard Zayn right. He couldn’t have. Zayn wouldn’t – Liam knew he might break up with him, and he was prepared. He was prepared, but not against this. Because this – this sounds like it has nothing to do with their current situation and everything to do with just them. It sounds like –_

_Like Zayn really doesn’t love him anymore. But not only that. It sounds like Zayn doesn’t_ want _to love him anymore._

_“I don’t –” Liam can’t breathe well enough to make a full sentence. “Zayn, what? You said – I thought – We said –”_

_“I know. Shit, I know,” and Zayn’s wide-eyed with guilt but nothing else. Liam can’t read any other emotion, and that terrifies him. “And I’m sorry. I am. I thought it was what I wanted, but it’s not.”_

_And it’s –_

_About three months after they got together Liam quietly confessed that this felt like forever to him. He was terrified as he whispered it into the hollow of Zayn’s neck because he knew – he knew it was too much, too soon but he couldn’t hold it back. But Zayn, he hadn’t been freaked out. He’d just sighed with relief and said that forever sounded pretty great to him and –_

_And Liam has always held onto that. When everything began falling apart, it’s what he went back to because – because how could something that fell into place that naturally possibly fall apart? How could something that was meant to be stop working? It wouldn’t; it couldn’t._

_But now Zayn’s saying that it’s not what he wanted. That oh wait, forever doesn’t actually sound good to him, not anymore. Like Liam’s weakest moment no longer gives Zayn strength, but disgusts him instead. Like he doesn’t want what Liam had so hopefully offered when they were kids._

_He doesn’t want Liam._

_“When –” Liam chokes on the front end of a sob, covering his eyes harshly because he can’t look at Zayn. He thought Zayn was starting to fall out of love with him; he’d never imagined that Zayn had already stopped loving him. That there was nothing left to fight for. “When did you –”_

_When did you stop loving me? Liam wants to cry it out, to shout, to release some of this pain pushing his organs to the side._

_“I just –” Zayn cuts off, like he can’t even force himself to say it, and that’s when Liam knows it’s been a long time. Zayn stopped loving him long ago, and –_

_And a dark voice in the back of Liam’s head whispers that of course he did. Of course Zayn stopped loving him. He’s Zayn, and he was always better than Liam. Always going to move on. And Liam used to know that. He used to acknowledge that, but then Zayn – Zayn had seen his doubt and his lack of confidence, and he’d fixed it. He’d made Liam better, but apparently he lied while doing it. He lied about always loving Liam. He lied._

_“I thought I wanted what we have,” Zayn continues. “But then I realized that I could have something else. I realized that it could be easier. If I was with someone else.”_

_And if Liam thought he couldn’t hurt more, he was wrong. Shit, he was so wrong. His body was screaming in agony, but now it goes silent. It goes still, like he’s died. Like his mind has just shut off. The words echo around the empty spaces where used to have thoughts and emotions._

_Someone else._

_Easier._

_Someone else._

_Someone else._

_And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who Zayn could possibly want. Perrie._

_“Did you cheat on me?” Liam barely breathes it out because he can’t believe it. Anything else. Anything else, but not this. Not his worst fear. Not the exact reason he’s never been able to handle seeing Zayn anywhere near Perrie. Not this. “Zayn, did you cheat on me?”_

_“No. I –” Zayn bites his lip. “Not exactly.”_

_Yes, that dark part of Liam’s mind hisses. Yes he did. “Not exactly?” he laughs, disbelieving. “Not exactly? What does that even mean?”_

_Zayn’s wince distracts Liam for only a moment. “Perrie and I haven’t done anything, but we’ve... we’ve talked about it alright? She told me how she feels, and I... I just realized that I wanted to try.”_

_If Liam thought it would matter that Zayn hadn’t actually cheated on him, he was an idiot. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter at all, because Zayn wanted to. Not only does he no longer want Liam, but he wants someone else. He wants Perrie. He_ has _Perrie._

_“You’re dating Perrie,” he whispers, mostly to himself. “Christ, you’re actually dating Perrie now.”_

_“No. I – I mean not yet,” Zayn’s stumbling over his words. “I wouldn’t 0 Liam I didn’t cheat on you, I swear –”_

_“Get out.”_

_He doesn’t blame Zayn for letting out a startled, “What?”_

_Liam doesn’t recognize his voice either. It’s too cold, too dead, too harsh to possibly be his voice. But it is. It is him. Or what’s left of him. He can’t feel himself anymore. Can’t feel the edges that exist because Zayn’s broken away. Zayn’s ripped himself out of Liam’s life, and now there will be holes. There will be holes and cuts and scars, and Liam will have to put himself back together._

_He turns away, walks numbly to the couch, sits and isn’t surprised by the tears he can barely feel dripping down his face._

_“Get out,” he nearly whispers. He has no strength to be louder, but his voice is determined. All of the fight is gone, like it never existed, like Liam never planned on fighting for Zayn. “You’re right. We’re done. So get out.”_

_“Liam –”_

_He barely hears Zayn, like he’s already gone, because he has been, hasn’t he? Liam thought Zayn had been pulling away from him all these months, but the truth is, he’d already been gone. Liam had been in love with a shadow, and he’d had no idea. Zayn had just let him go on, let him pretend, let him love - !_

_“Get out!” he shouts suddenly. There’s so much pain, so much anger, so much hurt, and he can’t – he can’t have Zayn here anymore._

_Zayn leaves, but Liam doesn’t hear him. Liam doesn’t hear anything._

He wishes he could say he stayed that strong, that he took all of his hurt and it made him stronger.

But it didn’t.

Liam was all alone, and he was barely a person, and he hated it. So he went crawling back to Zayn. He never – he never actually begged, never said the words _Take me back_ but he might as well have. It was so obvious in every longing look, every time he didn’t pull away from Zayn when he should have. He hoped, he hates himself for it, but he hoped that Zayn would change his mind again. He wanted Zayn to take him back, for months.

He never really got over him.

Sure, eventually Liam gave up. He stopped thinking about, stopped letting himself imagine it could happen, but he never stopped wanting Zayn. Never. Even when strangers were in his bed, even when Sophia came into the picture for that brief moment –

_“Are you even trying?” she demands, face starkly pale in her rage. “Are you even trying to love me? Or are you still pretending you don’t love him?_

Except she’d been wrong. Liam had never even tried to pretend that he didn’t love Zayn. It’d settled, permanent, beside his heart. He would always love Zayn, even when it hurt, maybe because it hurt.

And it just continued.

Life continued, and the band continued, and Liam saw Zayn all the time. Eventually it just stopped hurting, like his body had grown immune to the little flashes of pain. After that first time ( _in the studio when Zayn enters, and Liam can’t stop his gasp of pain because it still feels brand new. Zayn stops cold, eyes darting around, and it’s a moment that drags on for infinity, but then Zayn just turns around and leaves. Liam doesn’t breathe right for the rest of the day_ ) it had hurt less and less each time.

By the time tour rolled around, Liam could stand to talk to Zayn without breaking down, so he set up ground rules. He needed them, needed to control this, or he was going to lose it. He even used the other boys like a guard, protection against begging for Zayn back because he still wanted to. He almost did in fact, multiple times during that conversation, and he’d barely clung onto the distance he was forcing between them.

In fact, if it weren’t for Perrie, Liam would have caved.

But Perrie – she was almost a blessing. She was like a physical blockade between Liam and Zayn, and every time Liam got too close, she was there to stop him.

Like when he finally saw Zayn’s tattoo –

_He’s not paying attention to Louis and Zayn (for probably the first time since the breakup) but Louis’s gasp makes him look up._

_And Liam has never hated himself so much than in that moment._

_The splash of ink high up on Zayn’s arm is large enough that he can clearly see what it is from across the room._

_“Is that a fucking tattoo of Perrie?” Harry’s anger shatters the air in the room. “Are you fucking joking? Malik, what the fuck –”_

_Liam lets out a hysterical laugh that brings all of their focus to him. If he could think, if he could actually think right now, he’d hate that, but he can’t. He can’t form a single fucking thought. His hands are on his knees as he cries with laughter because he’s so stupid._

_He’s so stupid._

_“Liam –”_

_Liam pulls barely pulls back his laughter because it’s still funny. It’s so funny to him that he and Zayn were together for years, and Perrie’s only been with him for a month, but she’s already a permanent part of Zayn. “Yeah that’s...” he tries, except he wants to finish the sentence like ‘that’s exactly what I needed.’_

_Because it is. This little fucking reminder is exactly what Liam needs to make himself stay away from Zayn. Only a month, and he already can’t recognize himself, but this – this will make it easier._

_“Fuck you, Zayn,” he says, almost cheerfully as he walks out. Because he is grateful. He’s dying inside, and he hates himself, but he’s grateful for the reminder._

And that was only after a month. Liam swung back and forth between determined and weak. He’d teetered on the edge so many times, but what finally shoved Liam far enough back from the edge that he didn’t feel like he was going to fall over at any second was a little diamond ring. Such a simple thing, until it appeared on Perrie’ finger.

He really thought he was going to hit Zayn that night, mindless with rage.

Maybe his reaction didn’t make sense to anyone else, but it made perfect sense to Liam because –

_Harry enters the room, and Liam doesn’t even let him talk before he’s rambling._

_“They’re engaged, fucking engaged. He’s going to marry her. They’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already proposed.”_

_The sigh Harry releases isn’t exasperated, but it is sad. It’s a sigh of defeat._

_Liam doesn’t want to hear it. “Three months,” he whimpers, eyes focused on the carpet. “Three months, and we were together for so much longer.”_

_“Li,” Harry’s breath hitches. “Liam, did you – were you thinking about it?”_

_Marriage. He’s only just turned 20. He shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. He shouldn’t be but –_

_“Of course not,” Liam whispers. “Of course not.”_

_The small box in his hands makes it obvious that he’s lying, but Harry says nothing about it._

He hadn’t been planning on proposing though, not really. Not in any tangible way. The ring – it was just something he’d bought on impulse. He’d been keeping it locked away, waiting until their lives slowed down, but that never happened.

Liam sold the ring two months later.

He dated Sophia for a bit, fucked around a lot more, moved on.

He pushed the awful memories away and buried the happy ones, and he –

He just forgot.

Right until Zayn’s accident.

And now it’s all pressing on him again, all of those memories so fresh in his mind, and he can’t do anything about them. He can’t, because nothing has changed.

It’s been two fucking years almost, and he still has no idea what happened.

Zayn never explained himself after all, not really. He shoved a harsh break up down Liam’s throat and then dove into a new relationship and then pretended like he and Liam had never been anything more than casual friends.

Except –

Except every once in a while Liam would catch Zayn looking at him like he used to, like Liam meant something (everything) to him.

_Liam can’t hear what Harry’s hissing at Zayn further up the red carpet, but whatever it is, it’s pissing Zayn off._

_He shouldn’t even be paying attention to Zayn, but when he first arrived, he’d caught his eye and –_

_Liam swears he recognized that look in Zayn’s eyes. In the split instant Liam had been watching Zayn before Zayn had recovered himself, Liam had seen pain and something like hunger in Zayn’s eyes. It had been a look much like the one Liam’s caught on himself multiple times, whenever he’s looking at Zayn._

_“Liam?” Sophia’s voice snags his attention, and Liam finds himself smiling down at her. She’s familiar, sweet in a way that Liam thinks he needs right now._

_He pushes all thoughts of Zayn away. It doesn’t matter._

And it wasn’t only moments like those, moments where it seemed like maybe Zayn still wanted Liam. There was also that one time, that memory that Liam tries very hard not to think about, that moment with Perrie –

_“Oh.”_

_The startled exclamation makes Liam look up, an embarrassed smile already forming on his lips because he knows he’s not supposed to be back here right now. The smile dies when he recognizes Perrie though._

_He swallows hard, pushes down the feelings of hatred. He doesn’t hate her, or well, he doesn’t mean to. He knows it’s not her fault. None of this is her fault, and he has no right to hate her. Not unless –_

_But Liam doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Zayn cheated on him._

_Perrie’s still just looking at him, so Liam forces the smile back. “Hi Perrie.”_

_“Liam,” she returns his slight smile with one that looks almost hopeful, and Liam feels bad all over again. She’s a nice girl; he knows she is. Weird, to him, but nice enough. “What are you doing back here?”_

_Here is a room in the depths of the arena, a place Liam had thought would be empty, but as he looks at the couch Perrie’s perched on, he knows that this must be where she’s been told to wait while they’re onstage. (And he tries to repress the voice saying that if she really loved Zayn she’d be watching from the wings because it’s not his place to judge)._

_“I was just looking for –” a place to hide – “a quiet moment. It’s a bit crazy backstage.”_

_Perrie laughs. “Oh, I know! I mean obviously, our shows are never this big, but it’s always crazy the hour before we go on.”_

_And Liam forgets sometimes that Perrie actually has a life outside of her relationship with Zayn, that she didn’t just spring into existence to experience the ending of the relationship Liam had thought would go on forever. Right._

_“Exactly,” he says, careful with his voice. “Just needed a moment to myself.”_

_“Right,” Perrie glances around, biting her lip like she’s suddenly nervous. “I could – I could just go? I mean, if you want –”_

_“Oh,” Liam blinks, surprised and then guilty instantly. “Christ, Perrie, no. I can go find somewhere else.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_She still looks hesitant, so Liam tries to make a joke out of it. “Of course. Couldn’t go about kicking my bandmates’ fiancées out of their rooms.”_

_The instant he says it, he regrets it. They both flinch at the barely disguised anger in his face, and he should have known. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to say that without betraying himself._

_Perrie looks like he’s kicked her, wide eyed and pale. “Shit,” she barely breathes out, looking guilty as sin. “Liam, I –”_

_“No, that was –” he tries._

_“I’m so sorry,” she blurts, clamping a hand over her mouth. She speaks through it though, like she just can’t stop the words from coming. “I know this must suck for you. I can’t even imagine. You should just know, neither of us wanted it. I mean, I was fine, but Zayn – he didn’t really want it. He tried –”_

_“What?” Liam blinks stupidly at her because he doesn’t understand. He thought they were talking about her engagement, but there’s no way that’s what she’s rattling on about. No way, because she’s making it sound like it isn’t real. Except – except Zayn would have said if it wasn’t. He would’ve. There’s no way even Zayn is cruel enough to –_

_“Oh fuck,” Perrie looks like she wants to bolt. “Oh God. Liam didn’t you know –”_

_But he can’t hear anymore. He leaves without another word._

He never asked Zayn about it. He probably should have, but he couldn’t stand the idea of Zayn saying that it wasn’t just management’s doing. That maybe it started out that way, but he wanted to get married. That –

Well, anything really.

It was impossible for Liam to listen to Zayn say anything about personal stuff. Mentions of Zayn’s family gutted him because he missed them, his adopted family –

_Waliyha’s name flashing across his screen, and he only feels a slight hesitation before he ignores it._

And listening to Zayn talk with Louis cut him because he and Zayn were always best mates first–

_“We should go see it,” Louis crows, smirking wildly at Zayn. “Seriously. Heard it was gonna be sick, and we all know how much you love Marvel so –”_

So the only time he ever spoke to Zayn was about the music, about the band, about their future careers. Except even that turned dangerous at the end.

_“Liam,” Niall’s blue eyes are wide as he looks over the song again. “Mate, fuck. I mean this is great. It really is. But...” he trails off, and Liam just stares at him, refusing to back down as he dares Niall to say it. He dares him to call Liam out on these lyrics, to call him cruel._

_Louis picks Niall’s thoughts up though, not hesitant about it. “But this is fucked up.”_

_Liam just arches an eyebrow at him. He and Louis still get along, most days, but sometimes, they don’t, and it always relates back to Zayn._

_“You can’t seriously make him sing this,” Louis demands, waving around the sheets of music. “His lyrics –”_

_“His lyrics are fine,” Liam cuts him off. “They’d be fine if it were anyone else singing them. Just because it’s – Zayn can sing them. He’ll be fine.”_

_Niall sighed but dropped it, and Liam looked back to his work, willing Louis to do the same. He didn’t want to get into it, into the lyrics he had penned for just one of their new songs, but he also wasn’t willing to change it just so Zayn wouldn’t feel guilty. He was going to keep his writing honest, even if he hardly ever was anymore. This, at least, would be one thing honest in his life._

_Four_ was a fucked up album. He’s not sure who was the first person to take shots at someone else – though he has his suspicions about Harry, who is never careful with his music, who is raw and damned good at it – but by the end they all were. Or well, everyone but Niall of course, who just turned his attention to the music and ignored the lyrics for the most part.

But Liam will always remember the way Zayn fell apart trying to record ‘Spaces,’ how he came back at Liam with ‘Clouds,’ how Zayn always flinched at _Yeah I know your love’s not real_ like he knew Liam had begun questioning whether or not Zayn’s love had ever been real.

He thinks, now, that it was. Watching Zayn now, with the past two years of memories just gone, Liam can admit that Zayn definitely loved him in the beginning. But he’s still not sure when it stopped.

Liam lets himself think about all of it, from beginning to end and then all over again. He tries to trace over the timeline and make it fit, make it make sense. But it doesn’t. It never did; it still never does, no matter how many times Liam goes over it.

He knows that they were bad, that they were falling apart. He knows that, but the break up – the way it happened – it doesn’t make sense.

The problem, of course, is that he isn’t Zayn.

Zayn’s always lived in his head. He’s constantly thinking, a million meters away sometimes, and Liam’s always loved that about him. It’s amazing to Liam, the way Zayn can transport himself to a place only he can see, but it’s also terrible sometimes.

_“Zayn,” Liam nearly laughs as Zayn jumps, but he swallows it when he sees the frown pulling at Zayn’s mouth._

_“What?”_

_Liam reaches over, placing a careful hand on Zayn’s leg as he keeps his eyes mostly focused on the road. “You’re thinking too much.”_

_“Shove off, Liam,” Zayn mutters, but he doesn’t push Liam’s hand away. He curves his hand over it instead, squeezing hard like he needs Liam to ground him. “You’d be freaking out too.”_

_“No I wouldn’t,” Liam points out reasonably. “I already saw your family, and I was fine.”_

_Zayn groans, throwing his head back and glaring at Liam. “Yeah, and I have no bloody idea how you did that. This is terrible! They’re going to hate me.”_

_Liam has to bite back another laugh because that’s just ridiculous. “Zayn, my mum loves you. She calls you her favorite. Like, all the time. I’m pretty sure she would’ve traded me for you if she could have.”_

_That gets a small smile from Zayn, before he’s back to frowning. “Yeah, but that was before.”_

_“Before what?”_

_“Don’t play dumb. Before,” he stresses the word._

_“Before we shagged?” Liam teases, just to watch Zayn flush. “Before we kissed? Before you –”_

_“Yes, Liam,” Zayn hisses. “Before –”_

_“Before you made me the happiest I’ve ever been?” Liam states firmly, only phrasing it like a question because he wants Zayn to notice. And Zayn does. He goes still for a moment, and then he smacks Liam, hard on the shoulder._

_“Why the hell would you say that when you’re driving, and I can’t even kiss you?” Zayn demands, looking petulant. His pout is offset by the sparkle in his eyes though._

_“Because it’s true,” Liam says simply, smiling when he sees Zayn melt out of the corner of his eye._

_“Idiot.”_

_Liam doesn’t even bother responding because when Zayn says idiot it sounds a lot like I love you, so Liam doesn’t really mind._

_(And later, when they’ve arrived at Liam’s house, and Karen’s immediately crushed Zayn in a hug, Liam winks – badly – at him just to prove his point. Zayn flicks him off, but his grin is wide and unabashed)._

And before, Liam could always pull him out of it, but Liam hadn’t even noticed Zayn doing it. They were falling apart, and Liam was so focused on himself, that he didn’t even know Zayn was disappearing into his own head. He knew, he absolutely knew that Zayn was keeping things from him, but he never thought Zayn would live in his own head with those secrets. So he didn’t stop it, and whatever Zayn found there, whatever he thought, whatever changed, Liam will never know.

He’ll never know because Zayn doesn’t remember now. Those memories are gone, and he and Liam are both lost, and Liam has no idea what they’re supposed to do. How do they move forward from this?

Liam doesn’t know. He just – he doesn’t know.

 

* * *

 

They go back to London shortly after, and Liam buries himself in his home. It’s not the one he had with Zayn. He’d sold that almost immediately, unable to stand living in the space Zayn had occupied, but this place contains its own ghosts now.

Sophia spent the night here multiple times.

A couple of notable one night stands came over.

But more importantly, this is the flat where Liam rebuilt himself, leaving out all the pieces of Zayn.

Days drag on as Liam tries to go back to where he was before Zayn’s accident. He tries to get that back because it might not have been happiness but it was something. It was more than what he has now.

The lads try to visit him, but Liam can’t really stand being around Louis and Harry right now (and he has no idea what happened to change that situation, but he is grateful for it, even if he can’t really show that gratitude right now) and Niall stares at him in silence too often.

He leaves because he can’t stand to stay here any longer, and he goes home because that’s one place where his only memories of Zayn are all good ones.

Wolverhampton is the same and far enough away that Liam foolishly believes nothing will reach him here.

It does though.

“What the fuck?” Nicola demands, thrusting her phone in front of Liam’s face.

Liam catches sight of the name of the website currently open and then raises an eyebrow at her. “Nicola why are you reading that trash?” It’s a gossip site; Liam’s unfortunately familiar with almost all of them by this point.

His sister jabs angrily at the headline. “That’s fucking why. What the fuck, Liam?”

“Nic,” Ruth trails in, shooting Liam a worried look.

“No,” Nicola shouts, and Liam wants to roll his eyes. Nicola’s always been like this though, needlessly dramatic, and she gets along well with Louis because of it. “You are going to explain. Now.”

“I don’t –” Liam stops abruptly when he catches sight of the picture taking up most of the screen. It’s of Perrie, no question about it, and Liam automatically focuses on her finger. It’s bare. He snatches up the phone, ripping it out from away from his sister and furiously reading the headline.

His heart pounds with it because – It’s all just speculation of course. Perrie was spotted leaving Zayn’s flat without her ring after having just entered with it, and the public is freaking out. Liam normally wouldn’t put much stock in it, but – but Perrie isn’t wearing the ring, and Zayn’s words are fresh in his mind.

_We broke up._

Perrie broke it off with Zayn before his accident, and now, now she’s been photographed without the ring. Liam knows she’s not dumb enough to do that on accident either; no this is intentional.

And he’s left with the same question as Nicola: what the fuck?

“Liam,” Ruth calls softly, looking worried. “Did you not know?”

Liam sees guilt flash over Nicola’s face, like she’d never even considered that possibility, but he’s quick to nod his head. “I – yeah he – I just found out. Like, after the accident. But I didn’t think –”

He hadn’t thought it’d actually stick.

Perrie has been a part of Zayn’s life – and Liam’s by extension – for so long that he never really let himself believe she could be gone. He’d just assumed that management would convince one or both of them to keep the charade up, but now he doesn’t know why he thought that. It’d been impossible to keep up the ruse forever.

Still, he wasn’t expecting it this soon.

“So?” Nicola demands.

Liam just looks at her, still reeling with this recent development. “So what?”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Do?” Liam echoes. “Why would I do anything?”

Even Ruth looks surprised by his question, but of course, it’s Nicola who shouts again.

“Why would you – Liam Payne! He’s single. Zayn’s single again. You could –”

“I think,” Ruth interrupts with a pointed look at Nicola. “That Ruth here means, it changes things. It does, doesn’t it?”

Liam’s instant reaction is to say no. No, it doesn’t change anything. But it does. It’s changed everything, hasn’t it? It’s why Liam’s still struggling so much, why he can’t just go back to how he was before Zayn’s accident.

“It does,” he finally sighs, feeling the heavy weight of both his sisters’ eager stares. “But it doesn’t change enough.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Liam glares at Nicola. “It means that he still broke up with me. It means that we’re still over. Just because he’s single doesn’t mean I’m going to go crawling back to him.”

Nicola rolls her eyes, actually rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms. “Don’t be an idiot.”

And Liam’s thrown. He stares back and forth between his two sisters, completely surprised. He’d never expected this. Ruth and Nicola both had reacted so harshly after Liam had finally told them about the break up. He’d honestly thought Nicola might go find Zayn and scream at him for a bit. They’d been pissed, indignant on his behalf as most siblings are when their siblings gets his heart broken, and it’d been so much easier to deal with than his parents muffled sadness. He never thought they’d be suggesting he go back to Zayn.

“You want me to take him back?” he demands. “No, wait, that’s assuming he even _wants_ me, which he doesn’t.”

“Please,” Nicola snorts, looking righteous in her anger. “I don’t think he ever stopped loving you, and even if he did, he doesn’t remember. Mum’s told us everything. He loves you.”

“Right now,” Liam manages through gritted teeth because – _I don’t think he ever stopped loving you._ The simple statement knocks him off balance, so close to what Zayn had said. Liam’s been keeping those memories away though, unwilling to believe that they could be true. “He loves me right now, but he’ll remember. He’ll remember and –”

“He might remember –”

“And I can’t do it again!” Liam shouts, finally breaking. He glares at Nicola, standing up and tossing her phone at her. “I can’t let him break my heart again! Christ, it was bad enough the first time! Do you really think I’m going to risk that again?”

It’s enough to make Nicola pause, and Ruth looks endlessly sad just behind her. Liam wants to slam his door and shut them both out, but he can’t. There’s no escape, not from anything.

Finally Nicola sighs. “You’re miserable without him.”

Liam flinches but says nothing. It’s true after all.

Ruth tugs Nicola back. “We’ll go,” she says softly when Liam watches them. “But Liam, she might be right. Even if he does remember eventually, this is like a second chance, yeah? Not many people get those.”

They’re gone before that can fully sink in, and even after it does, Liam doesn’t feel any better.

He has no idea what to do.

* * *

 

He spends the rest of the night downstairs with his family, and he tries to ignore the way they’re all watching him. It won’t last forever; he has to remind himself. Nicola and Ruth both have to return to work, and then it’ll just be him and his parents. He knows that they know too, can see it in the renewed questions in their eyes, but they at least won’t press it. They’ll leave him be, and Liam’s content to spend the rest of his month off here.

Or he is until he sees the headlines the next morning.

He can’t believe it, at first. Much like the day before, it shocks him into inaction. He just stares at the pictures.

Management announced their break up. The entire world knows now that Zayn Malik and Perrie Edwards are no longer together, no longer engaged, no longer getting married.

Liam feels weightless and like deadweight all at once.

He doesn’t know what to do, if he should even do anything. He still has a million questions, and he’s not getting any answers. He doesn’t even know if he wants answers for some of his questions by this point.

It’s all just too much, and he determines to ignore it, right up until Zayn goes to Liam’s home.

Louis is the one who sends him the link with a simple question mark next to it, like he thinks Liam will understand it better.

But Liam doesn’t.

He doesn’t have any idea why Zayn was papped outside of his house, why he would even go there. Zayn’s never been before, and he had to have known that Liam himself wouldn’t be there. But the pictures are all the proof he needs.

Zayn went to his house.

He calls Louis and asks for Zayn’s spare key the next day.

 

* * *

 

When Zayn walks through the door, Liam nearly bolts. He quells the urge just barely, clinging to what drove him here in the first place. He needs to see Zayn, need some answers, needs –

Fuck, he doesn’t even know anymore.

He’s a cut up mess, and he just craves Zayn. It’s like being seventeen and helplessly in love with a boy for the first time again. It’s that headrush of falling into a relationship he wasn’t quite ready for but clung to with greedy fingers anyways. It’s that breathless moment in between every second, every time Liam jumped and Zayn caught him. It’s a lot of things, and it’s why Liam still can’t think straight, days after Zayn knocked him off his feet again.

Liam’s not quite sure why he’s here yet, but seeing Zayn, he feels a bit closer to figuring that all out.

Zayn doesn’t notice him right away, and that’s not really surprising considering that Liam’s standing in his nearly pitch black living room. It’s creepy and wrong, but Liam just watches him for a moment.

Zayn’s tired. It echoes with every slight movement he makes, the way his shoulders pull like moving is a chore, the limp fall of his hair. He’s tired, and Liam thinks he has been since he woke up in the hospital.

So has Liam, and he’s so – so tired of being tired.

He clears his throat, and Zayn startles hard, bag falling from his hands and making a horrendously loud sound that reverberates between them for endless moments. All the while Zayn just blinks at him, like he’s trying to clear his eyes, like he doesn’t quite believe that Liam’s standing in his flat.

“Liam?” his voice comes out rough.

“Hey Zayn.”

The pause between drags, like Zayn wants something but is unwilling to go for it. “What are you doing here?” he asks instead.

“You went to my flat.” Liam hadn’t meant to say it quite so accusingly but –

That was the last place he had that was completely untainted by Zayn, and a deep part of Liam’s mind is worried that he’ll need it again, that he’ll want a place free of pain like that, and now he won’t have it.

“I did,” Zayn admits, casting his eyes to the side like he can’t bear looking at Liam’s face.

“Why?” It matters. Liam’s not sure why, really, but it does.

Liam’s heart pounds as Zayn runs an exhausted hand through his rumpled hair, and he’s not sure what it is – the slump of Zayn’s shoulders, the curve of his spine, the hitch of his next breath – but he feels Zayn give in, just a bit. He cracks, and Liam’s determined to push his advantage.

“It’s complicated, Li.”

The familiar nickname pricks Liam’s skin like the thorn of a rose, a little pain just below so much beauty, but he pushes that away. “I need you to explain then.”

It’s the first time Liam has asked for an explanation in so long that he thinks they’re both surprised by it. Liam gave up asking why when he realized he might not want to know. When the prospect of answers he didn’t want became too high to bear, Liam just stopped asking. He’s asking now though.

The last two months have been filled with so much pain that Liam’s sure he can withstand anything. He just – he wants this all to be over, one way or another. He’s done. Tired and exhausted and worn down, and his heart still aches for this boy even after two years, so he’s giving in. He’s giving up.

He’s – fuck, he’s just asking why.

“Fine,” Zayn sighs out, and Liam knows immediately that he doesn’t quite get it. Zayn’s still a step behind, doesn’t know that Liam has given in, that Liam’s done fighting himself on this. Zayn’s continuing though, walking past Liam towards the kitchen, “But I’m tired and making a cuppa first. You want one?”

He agrees without thought, heart pounding.

He’s getting answers. For the first time, Zayn’s actually going to explain himself and –

And Liam just thought he was ready for this, that he was giving in, moving on finally, but now he’s not sure. There was a reason he stopped pushing and that reason was fear. It rears its ugly head now, black and curling around Liam’s neck, pushing against him.

Fear, almost real and tangible.

Liam moves, just to get away from it, like if he has something to do it becomes less real. He sets off down the hallway, running his fingers silently along the wall like he can feel Zayn’s new life here. He wants – he wants to know about it suddenly, what Zayn became after Liam. He’s never really thought about it before, so focused on himself, but Zayn had a life after too. Zayn can’t tell him though, not anymore. His mind’s an empty hole, but as Liam comes across a cracked door with flashes of color beyond, he thinks that this room probably isn’t.

With a slight smile he pushes the door open, already knowing something of what he’ll find. Zayn always loved to paint the walls after all, and he’d done so in their old flat. Painted and repainted until Liam had begged him to give it a break, claiming the walls would be a meter thicker by the time they moved out if Zayn didn’t stop.

So he’s smiling as he steps inside, craving the sight of Zayn’s familiar art suddenly (a small part of their life from before that Liam had never really had the chance to miss), but what greets him is far too familiar.

It’s him.

It’s all – _it’s all him._ Every single piece, every fleck of paint, all of it is him.

Liam can’t breathe.

His eyes flutter over the paint, barely taking in any details like if he focuses too hard he’ll split right open. He thinks he hears a shatter, an exclamation, maybe the sound of running feet, but he’s too focused on this room to do anything about that.

He’s staring at pieces of himself splattered across Zayn’s walls like blood, and he had no idea Zayn was cutting himself open like this. Because that’s just it, Zayn’s art has always been brutally honest. Even the lighter stuff – sketches of comic book characters and such – always held a certain truth to it, like it could tell you something about the boy who had made it. Zayn’s art is a part of him, and this, this documents him for months. He can’t have painted all of this just since he’s been back, so this – all of this – is showing Liam Zayn from before the accident, the real Zayn that he never thought he would get to see now.

Liam thought he would never know who Zayn had become (because the memories haven’t come back and Liam knows that they should have by now, if they were going to) but now it’s all right here. Right in front of him.

It hurts, so much. It aches right along Liam’s ribs, skipping up and down his chest until he wants to curl in on himself.

“You weren’t meant to see this,” Zayn’s devastated whisper hits him right against that brand new pain, and Liam whirls on him.

“What the fuck, Zayn?” his voice sounds like he’s just given three concerts in a row, and his throat feels like it might actually be bleeding. Like looking at Zayn’s agony (and it is agony) splashed up on these walls has truly cut him on the inside, bloodied him and made him raw.

“It’s just art, Liam.”

The lie would be obvious even if Liam didn’t have the memory of Zayn’s words in his head – _“It’s never just art, Li. There’s always something behind it.”_

“No it isn’t. It’s _me_ Zayn. All of this, it’s me.”

Liam can see Zayn putting up paper thin defenses around himself, and he wants to scream at Zayn to stop. To let Liam see him for fucking once, but he’s still fighting Liam. He’s always fighting Liam, and Liam doesn’t get it. Can’t understand why Zayn would ever fight him, not when Liam’s always given himself over so easily.

“You know I paint when I can’t sleep,” Zayn finally mumbles.

“So paint something else!” He can’t take this bullshit. Zayn can’t have it both ways; either Liam means nothing or he means something. “Why would you – Why me? Anyone else, Zayn! Anyone –”

“It couldn’t be anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were the problem!” Zayn shouts, eyes flashing as he glares at Liam. “You were the one I couldn’t stop thinking about, and you were the one I couldn’t talk to or about. You became this huge forbidden obsession! So this is all that was left! This was _all_ I could do!”

“I don’t get it,” Liam wants to cry with frustration. Zayn’s sending him mixed signals, always sending him mixed signals. “I just... I don’t understand.”

The way Zayn scrubs at his face is painful, like he wants to take off skin. “You weren’t meant to.”

“What the fuck does that he even mean?” Liam hisses. He can’t take these non-answers anymore. No more, his mind chants at him. No more. He’s done letting Zayn get away with this shit, done avoiding the pain.

“You were never meant to understand any of it,” Zayn sighs.

He doesn’t know why he knows exactly what Zayn means this time, doesn’t know why it suddenly clicks, but it does. “The break up.”

The moment he’s defined his life around, everything in a clear before or after category. The one thing in his life he’s never been able to move on from, because he never understood it. And now Zayn’s saying that that was intentional, that he didn’t want Liam to understand it, but Zayn wouldn’t know that. Zayn couldn’t possibly know that now.

“But you don’t even remember the break up, Zayn,” he nearly shouts. “You don’t remember –”

“I do actually.”

“What?”

Liam thought he heard – but no. No, he can’t possibly have. Zayn can’t remember. It’s been too long. His memories are gone. Liam had thought – he’d been so caught up in everything else, so focused on the way he was hurting, that Zayn’s memory loss had become somewhat secondary. Liam had begun to think of it as a fact, another painful piece of his life that he would just have to deal with. He’d never allowed himself to really think about what might happen if Zayn remembered, not past believing that Zayn would stop loving him again.

Zayn’s backing up now, sliding down the wall when he hits it so that he’s curled around himself on the floor. “I remember,” he whispers into his knees, eyes covered like he can’t stand to watch Liam’s life fall apart right now.

“What?”

“I remember everything. At least I think –” Zayn breaks off to make a noise in frustration, like he’s impossibly angry with himself, disappointed in himself, blaming himself. “Whatever, I remember the important things, like –”

“Like why you broke up with me.”

It’s monumental. Liam came here hoping for a small explanation, a few answers, like why Zayn was at his house or why he’d given up on Perrie, but he’d never expected this. He’d never expected these answers, and he doesn’t know what to do, now that he’s about to get them.

“Tell me why,” he demands, voice thankfully steady. “Tell me why. You’ve kept it to yourself for years, Zayn. Tell me why you broke up with me. If you really know, then tell me. _Let me understand._ ”

“Does it even matter, Li? It happened, can’t we just –”

“Tell me.” He’s not budging, not this time. He can take anything, can face it now.

Zayn turns his eyes to the ceiling, and then he does as Liam asked. He tells him everything.

And it’s nothing like what Liam expected.

It’s – it all stems from Zayn, from problems he had that he never told Liam about, from secrets Liam could have never guessed at. He never knew Zayn faced demons so similar to Liam’s own, never knew he struggled with confidence, with feeling worthy, with understanding himself the way Liam has and still does sometimes.

Zayn feared hate – hate for an interracial relationship, for a gay relationship, hate between them. He feared the way they were losing themselves, feared the way he felt exhausted, feared the way he knew he was hurting Liam.

Feared that Liam would stop loving him.

That one – that one cuts Liam to the quick because isn’t it exactly what he feared? The loss of love, isn’t that what drove him to desperation? And it did to Zayn to. It drove Zayn to pull away, to destroy their relationship with his own hands so that he could have some sort of control over it.

Zayn broke his own heart so that Liam never could.

And he thought it would be better.

Liam can’t get over that, can’t wrap his mind around it. He doesn’t know how Zayn could have possibly thought that what he was doing would be better.

“I was a coward,” Zayn gasps, like he knows what Liam’s thinking, still after two years of distance. “I wasn’t going to be ready for what you wanted, and I was so afraid that you’d realize that and leave so I –”

“You left me before I could leave you,” and that, that at least Liam can understand. He can understand hurting others to avoid his own pain. He’s done it too, but never like this. Never to such an extreme. But is he surprised really? Is he surprised that Zayn – sensitive Zayn with his heart on his sleeve and scars from sitting on the edges of society for his entire life – would take it so far? He isn’t. Not when he really thinks about it. When he thinks about it, really and truly thinks about it, he wonders how he didn’t think of it before.

“Don’t rationalize it,” Zayn begs, teary eyes filled with pain. “Please don’t. I don’t deserve it.”

And maybe he doesn’t, but – But all of this started because Zayn thought he didn’t deserve Liam, and all of this continued because Liam thought he didn’t deserve Zayn, so –

So does it really matter if they deserve each other? All that hurt just because they might not be enough, and instead of trying, they gave up.

But no. He didn’t, not at first. At first he was determined. He would have done anything to keep Zayn. He just needed a chance.

“You left me,” Liam says. “You didn’t even give me a chance to prove that I wouldn’t! You just assumed! Fuck, Zayn did you not trust me at all?”

“It wasn’t about that,” Zayn pleads. “Of course I trusted you. I loved you!”

“Not enough,” Liam argues. “Not enough to keep loving me! No you just decided that it was too hard, that I didn’t get a choice! Do you even realize that you took away my choices? It should’ve been my decision! You should have just fucking talked to me!”

“Li –”

“No,” his anger makes his voice sharp, but he can’t control it. “You don’t get to talk anymore! Not when I was silenced! Fuck, Zayn! You took away everything and you never even let me in! You just closed me out and decided it was easier to stop loving me like –”

“I never stopped loving you!”

“What?”

Liam can’t look away from Zayn’s face, trying to find that flash of conviction again, that flash that crossed Zayn’s eyes the moment he shouted those words at Liam. It’s what Zayn said in the hotel room, but Zayn didn’t remember then. He hadn’t – but he has now. He remembers, and he’s still saying that he never stopped loving Liam and that –

It changes everything.

“I love you,” Zayn whispers. “I have always loved you. Since I was eighteen years old Liam, I swear. It never stopped. How could it ever stop when you’ve been everything to me for years? Of course I love you. I will always –”

“Stop,” Liam feels shattered, running into the other wall like it can keep him together. “Stop, Zayn, stop. You can’t –”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I wish, fuck, I don’t even know.” Zayn looks as anguished as Liam feels, and for the first time, Liam believes that might actually be true. For the first time, he thinks that Zayn might have been suffering just as much all along. And the thought is horrifying. “I wish I hadn’t done it,” Zayn continues. “I wish I never remembered. I wish –”

“You broke up with me because it was easier,” Liam cries out, like he can argue Zayn out of his words. “You broke up with me because you couldn’t handle it, any of it, and then you refused to tell me! You let me think for years that you no longer loved me, Zayn, and you loved me that entire time? You watched me break myself to pieces, and you loved me? Are you joking? How could you – Why would you – Was it better?”

He needs to know suddenly. He wants to know if Zayn truly thinks that all of this was better than being honest with him. If this heartbreak is preferable to the possible heartbreak they could have faced later on.

“Was it better?” he demands again. “Was it better for you, being apart? Because it was the worst feeling in the world to me. It was like you’d taken away half of who I was, and I had no warning. I woke up missing pieces of myself and I – Did it even bother you? Or was it easy? Because you made it seem – It was so easy for you!”

“Easy?” Anger ricochets in Zayn’s face. “You think it was easy to cut you out of my life like that? You thought you were missing pieces? Well imagine purposefully pulling those pieces away! I had to separate everything I was from everything you were, and it was impossible! No matter how hard I tried, all it did was hurt!

And then you started fucking about, and I couldn’t even say anything! I had to bury how sick that made me! And then you got with Sophia, and you looked so happy, and I had to force myself to let you be happy with someone else when all I wanted was for you to be happy with me! I watched you get over it! So was it easy, Liam? No it wasn’t fucking easy!”

“So what?” Liam laughs, laughs like Zayn’s words didn’t just strike him hard, like they weren’t what the most pathetic parts of himself have wanted to hear for so long. But he pushes that away because Zayn still hurt him. He still did all of this. “You regret it then? Is that – are you saying you regret it?”

“Of fucking course I regret it! I broke it off and I walked away and as soon as I did I couldn’t even breathe! It was like I’d ripped my lungs out of my body without even realizing! And I couldn’t even go back for them! I’d shredded my ability to breathe because you were my lungs, you were everything, and I ruined that! I feel like I’ve spent the past two years without inhaling because I can’t without you!”

“You couldn’t breathe?” Liam shoves away from the wall. “Well I couldn’t think! It was like someone took away my ability to think! A fucking bubble formed between me and everything else and no matter what I did –”

“Nothing got through,” Zayn interrupts, standing up like he wants to be on even ground with Liam. Like finally, they’re on the same page. “You think I don’t know how that felt? I hid how I love you for two years, and then I had to watch as you fell out of love with me and I couldn’t even say anything to –”

Liam makes a truly awful noise in the back of his throat because no. No, Zayn doesn’t get to think that Liam stopped loving him. He doesn’t get to play the victim like that.

“You think,” he says slowly, marching forward with his only intention to get closer to Zayn, “that I fell out of love with you?”

“I –” Zayn stutters as he hits the wall, Liam crowding against him because his body is demanding it. His blood is calling out for Zayn, for him to be near, for Liam to make Zayn _see_.

“I never stopped loving you,” Liam says fiercely. “Not for one second. I have always loved you, and I never pushed that away.”

He should let it sink in. He should let Zayn really think about what he’s saying, the accusation he’s throwing around. Fuck, he should let them both think, cool down and regroup and be rational about this.

But he’s so tired of inaction.

He’s so tired of holding himself back.

So he lets go.

His lips slam into Zayn’s with force, and Liam takes full advantage of Zayn’s shock, biting his bottom lip when Zayn gasps. He takes Zayn’s mouth, shoving his tongue inside like he’s staking a claim, or re-staking his old one. It tastes brutal, this kiss, but Liam savors it, shoving Zayn harder into the room, using his body to hold him there like he needs control. He wants to own Zayn again, to make him his like he hasn’t been in two years, and it’s a desperate, needy feeling that claws at his chest, driven on by how quickly Zayn responds like he wants it too.

He forces himself to break away, heaving in breath. “You love me?” He needs to know, needs to absolutely know before he can do this. “Zayn! Do you love me? Right now? Do you love me?” He doesn’t need promises of always or forever right now. He’s desperate, and he’s aching, and he just wants Zayn for now. Just for this moment in time while he can.

“Yes,” Zayn whines when Liam’s hips shift. “Yes, I love you.”

And it’s like permission. It’s fucked up, and Liam knows, deep down, that this is only going to make it hurt more later, but he doesn’t care right now.

“Good.”

Liam’s back on him before Zayn can think, and he’d stop if Zayn said no. He’d force himself away, rip his hands off Zayn’s skin and deal with everything if Zayn just said the word, but Zayn doesn’t say anything. He presses hard back into Liam, like he’s fighting to mark Liam too, and it spurs Liam on.

He shifts his knee between Zayn’s thighs, rubbing firmly up against his erection. The moan that leaves Zayn’s lips when Liam pulls his mouth away is beautiful, and Liam’s burning for him.

“I want to fuck you,” he breathes into Zayn’s neck as he sucks dark marks there. He uses teeth and tongue, and it probably hurts but Zayn arches into it. So responsive, so good for Liam, and he needs him. “Zayn, I want –”

“Yes,” his fingers convulse on Liam’s shoulders when he agrees. “Yes, please, Li, just –”

Liam shoves his mouth over Zayn’s, tangling his hands in Zayn’s long hair and using it for a grip as he pulls him away from the wall. Zayn groans as their lips slide over each other, uncoordinated in their haste. Liam blindly guides them to the couch he barely noticed early, shoving him down on it and pinning him immediately with his body. He wants to be touching Zayn constantly, can’t stand the idea of any space between them, and his hips rock into Zayn’s with bruising force.

“Lube?” Liam makes himself ask as he rips Zayn’s shirt away. His eyes are seeing all the differences in Zayn – the hair and the tattoos and the muscle – but Zayn’s skin feels the same under his hands. He still responds the same under Liam, and it’s Zayn. It’s his Zayn.

“Not in here,” Zayn gasps back. “I don’t –” he cries out when Liam bites down hard on his collarbone.

“Where?” Liam’s already pulling himself up, skin itching for more.

“Bare.” Liam’s head snaps back to him, eyes widening, but Zayn’s focused on his nimble fingers where they tug at Liam’s shirt. “You can do it bare,” he continues breathlessly. “I’m clean, and I don’t care. We can use –”

Liam presses two fingers against his lips without a word. His mind’s screaming, _too much, too soon,_ but he doesn’t care. Zayn’s offering, he’s offering himself up for Liam, and it’s such a difference to how he’s been these past two years. He’s wide open where Liam’s used to him being firmly closed off, and it’s heady enough to drive Liam over the edge.

He groans when Zayn sucks eagerly at his fingers. It’s a mess of flailing limbs as he yanks the rest of their clothes off, Zayn mouthing at his fingers the entire time and driving him crazy. Their bare cocks catch, and his moan drowns out Zayn’s gasp.

“God,” he bucks when Zayn eagerly accepts a third finger in his mouth. He pumps them sloppily, watching Zayn. “You look –” Beautiful, he thinks, as he tugs harder just to see Zayn arch into it. When does, responding so prettily, Liam smirks and draws his fingers out.

“Now,” Zayn doesn’t even pause to breathe. “Li, now please.”

Liam can’t watch him. Zayn’s looking up at him with dark, needy eyes, and he’s so willing, so responsive, and Liam can’t watch him. But he wants him still so –

“Turn over.”

Zayn scrambles over, and Liam has to back away to let him. It’s agony for a moment as Zayn kneels unsteadily on his knees. Liam presses his chest up against his back, closing his eyes at how great it feels to have Zayn pressed up against him again. He shoves between Zayn’s ass cheeks, moaning when Zayn pushes back against his cock.

“Please,” Zayn whines.

Liam traces his spine with firm hands on either side, loving the give of Zayn’s skin under his, before he reaches Zayn’s lower back and presses down firmly. Zayn bends over the arm of the couch without hesitation, baring his ass for Liam. It’s a vulnerable position, one they hardly ever did before, and Liam’s tempted for a moment to lick at Zayn’s hole.

But no. That’s not what this about.

He presses his split slick fingers against Zayn’s rim, testing him with teasing pressure.

“Li,” Zayn whines when the first finger presses in. “Leeyum, please, I want –”

He’s so tight around Zayn’s fingers, tight and wet and warm, and Liam wants more too. He does, but he’s not cruel. “I know, baby,” the pet name slips out and makes Zayn shiver underneath him. “But I have to open you up. This is already going to be a bit rough.”

He doesn’t want to hurt Zayn. He wants him to feel it, to wear his marks, but he doesn’t want to hurt him.

“Don’t care. Want to feel it. Want to feel _you_.”

“Fuck.” It nearly breaks Liam to hear that, to hear the honest desperation in Zayn’s voice. He presses sloppy kisses against the tattoo high on Zayn’s neck, the one he’s never touched before. He deepens his thrust, searching for Zayn’s prostate as he rubs at the rim with a second finger. Zayn moves with him, fucking down on his finger, and he’s so clearly ready for more that Liam gives in. He presses a second and then a third finger in, and he hits Zayn’s prostate frequently, trying to ease the burn he knows Zayn has to be feeling.

“Please,” Zayn whispers. “Now.”

“Okay,” Liam breathes out, trying to steady himself, but the arch of Zayn’s spine is distracting him. Sweat slips down his flushed skin, and it strikes Liam all over again, just how pretty Zayn is. Gorgeous underneath him as Liam pulls his fingers out and presses the head of his cock forward. He thrust in, one fluid motion, and then goes perfectly still when Zayn tenses up.

 _Too soon,_ his mind hisses at him, and a wave of guilt crashes down around Liam. He didn’t think, didn’t realize, this is probably the first time Zayn’s done this since – and fuck, he should have known.

“Shhhh,” his hands trace down Zayn’s sides in an intimate touch. “Shhhh, Zayn, you’re okay.” He can’t hide the worry in his voice, and he’s thinking about pulling out, pulling out and apologizing. He’s about to when he feels Zayn relax underneath him and then push tentatively back, and it strokes a groan from Liam’s chest.

Zayn feels great around him, tight and hot.

“Alright,” Zayn breathes out. “Liam, alright. Move, baby, please.”

Liam does because Zayn sounds like he wants it, but he moves slowly, thrusting shallowly to let Zayn adjust. He’s still wrapped in pleasure, but he watches Zayn carefully. He waits until Zayn’s thrusting his hips back, swiveling them as he stretches to make Liam hit his prostate, and then Liam finally moves with force.

He launches into a hard rhythm, fast and deep, and it shoves Zayn forward into the armrest of the couch. Liam moves with him, keeping the pressure constant as his hands dig into Zayn’s hips. Zayn bends, folding down over the couch with his hands tearing into the fabric, and the angle lets Liam slip deeper. He hears Zayn gasp when he hits his prostate, and then Liam stays there, fucking directly onto it and gasping when Zayn clenches tightly around him.

It’s sweat and heat and the harsh slapping of skin. He knows he’ll be leaving bruises, can hear the sofa hitting against the wall a bit, but he doesn’t care. It’s hard and fast and brutal and exactly what he wants.

“Li,” Zayn’s calling out suddenly. “Li, I’m gonna –”

“Yeah,” Liam moans because he’s getting close, can feel that familiar pressure building in his gut. “Yes, Zayn, come baby please. Come for me.”

He watches as Zayn bites into his forearm like he wants to muffle the sharp whines leaving him. Liam just fucks him harder, shoving him toward the edge because he can feel his orgasm rapidly approaching, and he wants Zayn to come first.

Zayn does, his spine nearly snapping as he goes tense for a few endless moments, and then goes boneless, eyes fluttering shut as Liam barely catches him with a firm arm wrapped around his chest.

He fucks Zayn through it, drawing out Zayn’s orgasm as he hurtles towards his own. A few more thrusts, and he’s gone. Spilling inside of Zayn, Liam’s cock throbs with release. He slumps over Zayn, exhaustion hitting him hard as his chest presses against Zayn’s spine. They’re nearly sprawled over the couch now, and the arm has to be digging uncomfortably into Zayn’s chest, but he doesn’t move. Liam waits until he goes soft inside of Zayn, waits until his breathing evens out, and then he shifts.

He turns and pulls Zayn with him at the last moment, unwilling to let them separate quite yet. His head is still buzzing with his post-orgasm high, but he’s starting to come back to himself. As Zayn settles into him, sweaty but relaxed, Liam realizes just what they’ve done.

They fucked. Oh God, they fucked, and they shouldn’t have. They really shouldn’t have because Liam is still a tangle of emotions. He’s got all the answers now, but they hurt him in ways he was unprepared for. He thought he would be ready for Zayn’s explanation, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t ready for Zayn to say that he still loves him, has always loved him, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

It hits him all at once. Liam still hasn’t forgiven Zayn.

He sucks in a startled gasp of air, weight settling heavily over him as he prepares to say something. Zayn shifts, burying his head in Liam’s chest like he knows what Liam’s going to say and doesn’t want to hear it.

He’s small, small and fragile in Liam’s arms, and Liam doesn’t want to do this, but he hasn’t forgiven Zayn. He hasn’t – he hasn’t even processed everything yet, and he can’t. He can’t do it here, not in front of Zayn. He can’t think around Zayn, hasn’t been able to for two years now. He needs to go.

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t care,” Zayn whispers it into Liam’s skin. “I don’t care.”

He should. Zayn should really care. They both should. “Zayn –”

“Please.” He sounds broken, and Liam’s heart lodges in his throat. “Please don’t.”

Zayn looks fragile and vulnerable and afraid, like he knows that Liam’s going to hurt him now. And Liam is going to. He doesn’t want to, his body screams out against it, but Liam is going to leave, because he can’t stay. He can’t.

He needs to think, and he needs – Fuck, he needs time. He can’t process all of this, and if he stays with Zayn he’ll just forgive him. He’ll forgive him because he loves him, but that won’t fix anything. They need to fix things.

If Liam just forgives him right now, it’ll never be good between them. Liam will always wonder what if (what if Zayn does stop loving him this time, what if he breaks up with Liam again, what if he decides they aren’t worth it again) and Zayn, he’ll always have guilt. Liam can still see the guilt rounding out his edges, making him smaller, and he doesn’t want that to eat at Zayn.

He doesn’t want their relationship to destroy them again.

So he gets up. He slides out from under Zayn and steps away. “Zayn...” he has nothing to say though, no words to explain this certainty that if he doesn’t go, they’ll only end up worse off than before.

The devastation on Zayn’s face hurts Liam, but the resigned look in his eyes (like he knew Liam would go, like he expected it, like he thinks he deserves it) that kills Liam. But it also proves to him that he was right.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he makes himself say it again just because it’s true as he tugs on his jeans. “We really –”

“I’m sorry.”

Liam’s head shoots up, and he nearly chokes when he sees the way Zayn’s curled in on himself. He’s still naked, but it’s like he’s hiding from Liam. He’s not looking up, and he looks –

He looks used and broken and guilty. Still so fucking guilty, and Liam can’t take it.

Cursing, Liam drops to his knees in front of him, pulling Zayn’s arms lose because he can’t stand the thought of Zayn hiding in front of Liam. With a sob, Zayn falls into his embrace. He buries his face in Liam’s neck and sobs, and Liam can hear the pain there. He swears he can feel it.

“Zayn, Zayn, Zayn,” he whispers. He wants to tell Zayn that it’ll be okay, that this isn’t the end, but – but he isn’t sure that’s the truth. He still hasn’t figured anything out, but Zayn’s falling to pieces in front of him, and Liam doesn’t want that. No matter what, he doesn’t want Zayn to hurt, not like this.

“I know it was a mistake. I know we shouldn’t have – But Liam I’m so sorry. Please, I’m just so sorry.”

Liam looks away when he lets Zayn go. He stays kneeling on the floor in front of him, shirtless and bowed underneath the weight of Zayn’s tear-soaked eyes. He never wanted this. “I know you are,” he scrubs a distressed hand through his hair. “Fuck, Zayn, I know, but I –”

Zayn shrinks into himself a bit, face twisting in silent pain. His eyes close, like he can’t stand to see Liam and – It’s not what Liam wants. He doesn’t want Zayn to look like that, ever, and he thinks he knows why Zayn looks so wrecked right now. Zayn’s expecting Liam to turn him away, to deny him another chance, and Liam – He’s not sure he can take Zayn back, not right now, but he doesn’t want to shove him away either. He wants – He just wants more time.

“No, Zayn,” he cups Zayn’s jaw, relieved when Zayn opens his eyes again. He can feel tears gathering in his own eyes, but he ignores that. “I’m not – This isn’t – I just can’t right now, alright? We shouldn’t have – But I just missed you so much and you said that you love me –”

“I do,” Zayn presses into his palm. “I really do love you.”

“I know.” And he does. Liam can see it now, and he’s not sure how Zayn managed to hide it so well before, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is making Zayn understand why he needs to go. “I think... I get that now. It’s just – it’s a lot to sort out Zayn and I –”

“Please don’t leave,” Zayn begs, but he turns his eyes away like he already knows it’s useless. And that, it stings through Liam’s veins because only a hopeless person would beg for something he already knows won’t happen. “I’m so sorry, and I’ll tell you anything. Please just don’t leave. Stay.”

He wants to. Fuck, Liam wants to stay so badly. His bones are calling out for it, and his heart’s beating like it beats only for Zayn, and he wants to stay here. He does.

But he can’t.

Letting out a breathy cry, he barely manages to say, “I can’t. Not right now, Zayn. Please, I just – I can’t. I need to think. I need...” but there’s nothing else he needs. Just time. Time and Zayn, but he can’t say that, not without breaking.

“Don’t leave me.”

Liam swears he can taste blood as he cradles Zayn to him, but he can’t tell if it’s his own or Zayn’s at this point. He feels like he’s cut them both so many times in just this short, stilted conversation, like his words are knives carelessly thrown by a shaking hand.

“I just need time,” he whispers into Zayn’s hair, letting his eyes slip closed for a long moment. He inhales deeply, clinging to Zayn’s familiar scent. “I swear I just need time to process, Zayn. I know you’re sorry, but I can’t forgive you yet. I can’t – Not yet. I just need time.”

Zayn’s fingers slowly uncurl from Liam, like he’s forcing himself to let go. It rubs against Liam’s already raw heart, the way he can physically see Zayn fighting himself.  “You’re right,” he mutters with a thick voice. “You should... yeah. You can go. I shouldn’t have –”

Liam makes a low noise to cut Zayn off. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Zayn to blame himself, doesn’t want to add on to that guilt and hatred. He doesn’t want Zayn to feel like he doesn’t deserve anything anymore. His fingers press gently under Zayn’s chin so he can meet his eyes. “We’ll figure this out,” he makes himself promise, heart pounding. “I swear, Zayn.”

Zayn nods, but Liam can tell that he doesn’t believe him. He’s clearly letting Liam go even though he wants him to stay still.

And Liam he feels like shit. He truly doesn’t want to hurt Zayn, doesn’t feel the need to get him back for all the hurt from before. He just – he wants to move on.

So he gets up and drags his shirt on. He can’t keep his eyes from Zayn, watching the way he remains perfectly still, eyes downcast once more like he can’t watch Liam leave.

Liam feels numb as he turns to go, walking steadily towards the door with a blank, overwhelmed mind. He can’t think yet, needs to go home and shower and sleep. He feels exhausted, worn down and raw.

Just as he reaches the doorway, Zayn’s voice catches him.

“I’ll be here.”

It stops him. Looking over his shoulder, he sees Zayn still curled up on that couch, so small but looking back at Liam this time.

“I’ll be right here, Li,” he promises. “When you decide – whatever you decide – I’ll be waiting, yeah? For you, if you... I’ll be here. Just let me know.”

His eyes tear up without thought because it’s a heavy promise Zayn’s just given him. It’s Zayn putting himself on the line, holding himself out there without the guarantee that Liam will catch him. It’s risky.

Liam can only nod, not trusting his voice. He goes, walking quickly through Zayn’s house. He’s moving fast, but he still manages to just catch the sound of a loud sob before he’s slamming the front door behind him.

His chest is hitching hard with repressed sobs, and he can’t even see clearly. All he can think about is Zayn, broken and alone and sobbing behind him. Zayn, who he has just left like Zayn left him two years ago.

He hates it. Hates this entire situation they’re in, hates that he couldn’t just forgive Zayn.

But he keeps moving. He keeps walking because he knows himself. He knows that if he went back now, he’d just let everything go. He’d never think about it again, never truly process everything Zayn said, and it would just fester between them.

He needs to think.

He needs to really think about whether or not he can take Zayn back.

He needs to figure out whether or not he can let Zayn know.

 

* * *

 

Part IV:

           

Liam wants Zayn.

He wants Zayn so badly it aches at the tips of his fingers all the way up his arms. His heart aches with it, short, sharp pains every time he imagines Zayn’s face – and it’s never Zayn’s face as he last saw it. No, it’s always Zayn’s face from before.

He sees Zayn laughing, that laugh that affects his entire body. The way his nose scrunches, his tongue pressing to the back of his teeth as he grins so wide his eyes crinkle, his shoulders shaking as he tries to keep it somewhat muted, like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Only Liam. He would only laugh like that for Liam.

It’s Zayn smiling, but not the smile he gives the fans or even the one full of childish delight that Louis can startle out of him on occasion. It’s a different smile, a softer, gentler one. One just for Liam, like his laugh, but this was sweeter. Full of affection, Zayn would smile so softly whenever Liam did something – anything – to remind him of how much Liam loved him. It was almost wondering, this soft smile, like Zayn didn’t understand how he ended up with Liam, but he was so grateful for it. Sweet, soft, gentle, those were the words Liam used to associate with Zayn – his Zayn.

He curls in around himself when he remembers, but he can’t stop. Remembering these things feels brand new because it’s been so long since Liam allowed himself to think about it.

They were happy together.

He knows that it might seem unlikely, that Harry might argue with him, but they were happy. Truly happy in a way that Liam had never experienced or expected. For that first year, Liam had never been happier, and he thinks that if they were anyone else – if they weren’t two fifths of One Direction – they would have stayed that happy.

Destined, that’s how he and Zayn felt together. Like they were meant to be, like they would have met each other no matter what.

Because they didn’t break their relationship. Their actions did, yeah, but those actions were forced. Being in this band broke their relationship. If they had been allowed to be just Liam and Zayn they would have been fine.

But they aren’t and they will never be, and they did break.

Liam’s glad that he’s started to remember how happy they were together because it was wrong of him to block that part of his life off.

But –

But it makes it harder too.

Liam has to make himself think about what Zayn said. He finally got an explanation – the explanation he’s wanted for two years – but it wasn’t at all what he expected. He struggles to make himself think about it, dances away from the too fresh memory of Zayn telling him.

He ends up making a list because he can’t think of it unless he does it logically.

Zayn broke up with him because he was hurting Liam, and he hated that – this reason is the easiest to understand, the easiest to forgive. Liam gets it. He really does. If he had been hurting Zayn like that... Well, he’s already proven how far he’ll go to not hurt Zayn. So he forgives Zayn for that, for being selfishly selfless.

Zayn broke up with him because he wasn’t ready to come out yet – this one is harder, but only because Liam had no idea. He can’t believe he never thought about that, whether or not Zayn wanted to come out. He had just assumed... (but it makes an awful sort of sense when Liam thinks about how hard it was for Zayn to come out to his family, how some of his extended relatives probably still don’t talk to him). Liam was pressuring him without even realizing it, which kills him, and he can’t blame Zayn for this reason. He can’t because he knows Zayn, knows that Zayn would feel like he was holding Liam back. He can forgive Zayn for hurting him if Zayn’s intentions were good. He can.

Zayn broke up with him because Liam would get hate for being with someone Pakistani – Liam doesn’t even need to think about forgiving Zayn for this one. He’s seen the hate, still sees it occasionally, and he clearly remembers that one awful time, in front of the venue with the signs about Perrie. He remembers how Zayn looked absolutely brutalized by it. At the time he thought it was because Zayn felt guilty about Perrie, but now he knows. Zayn had been thinking about Liam, about how those signs would be aimed at Liam if they ever came out.

(And it’s no secret that Liam has experienced bullying in the past, and it’s made him stronger, but Liam knows that Zayn can’t forget it. Zayn has always refused to let Liam suffer like that again, battling the universe itself to keep Liam from having to go through anything like that again).

So Liam forgives him immediately.

Zayn broke up with him because it was easier.

And this – this is the one that Liam can’t forgive.

He can forgive Zayn for doubting, for letting the pressure push him away, for not opening up to Liam. All of those reasons are valid, are human, but breaking up with Liam because it was easier? That’s not human; it’s just cowardly.

He hates thinking of Zayn like that, hates himself for continuing to think of it, but –

But if Zayn hadn’t let his fear rule him, if he had just come to Liam about any of the other problems, if he had just even mentioned them, they could have worked it out. They could have been together.

So ultimately, Liam can’t forgive Zayn. He can’t forgive Zayn for allowing fear to take two years away from them.

And if he can’t forgive Zayn, then he can’t take him back.

 

* * *

 

Liam falls apart in the quiet of his too-big home. He lets himself go to pieces for days. He wakes and eats and works out, but he falls apart throughout the day. He’ll be in the middle of making a sandwich and then just start shaking, thinking of what Zayn would be – could be – doing if he were there right now.

Liam always lets himself fall apart. He just clings to himself until it passes, and then he gets back up and continues on.

It’s a slow painful process of building himself back up, but he has to do it.

He has to do it because rehearsals are coming up, and he’ll have to see Zayn. He’ll have to see Zayn, and Zayn will know. He’ll know that Liam couldn’t forgive him after all, that Liam can’t let him know, and Liam’s not sure Zayn will keep his promise after all.

How long can Zayn wait?

He said – no, he promised that he would just keep waiting, but Liam knows that’s not realistic. No one can wait forever, and Liam doesn’t know if he can ever forgive Zayn for taking the easy way out and shutting himself off from Liam.

So Liam puts himself back together as best he can, and when he got to rehearsals that first day, he made himself smile at Zayn. He hadn’t expected to see hope though. That little flash of hope in Zayn’s eye that told Liam he was still waiting, it had derailed Liam a bit, and he’d found himself talking to Zayn after rehearsal.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet.” He’d had to say it; he couldn’t let Zayn think he had already forgiven him. “I haven’t forgiven you yet, but I’d like to be mates again. I can’t do this distance anymore Zayn. Not for another tour. I need – I just want us to be normal.”

And that was the truth, or well, part of it. Liam really couldn’t do another tour like they had done the last one. But also – also he wanted to see if they could do it. He was testing them, seeing what, if anything, they could salvage of the friendship that had started this all.

Now, he knows they can. He watches Zayn step out of the car, squinting at the bright sun because he’s forgotten sun glasses like always, and he thinks of how they’ve fallen back into an easy friendship, and it gives him a bit of hope.

If they can joke and laugh and tease (but not touch, not yet), then maybe they can find their way back to each other.

So Liam steps up behind Zayn and offers a pair of sunglasses to him.

“Here,” he smiles when he sees Zayn gaping at him. “You always forget.”

He walks away before Zayn can attempt to ask why he brought them, why he bothered. Liam doesn’t honestly know really, but when he was packing he grabbed three more pairs. Just like he used to when they were dating.

It’s – well it definitely means something.

He’s just not sure what it means yet.

 

* * *

 

Liam comforts Zayn before the first show. It’s the first time he lets himself touch Zayn, and it’s a huge step forward. He just couldn’t let Zayn sit there, obviously a nervous wreck with his twitching fingers and bouncing leg. Before he would have just thrown himself on Zayn’s lap, let Zayn wrap around him and pretended it was for him and not for Zayn, but he can’t quite do that. He does run his hand up and down Zayn’s spine like he would have before though, and when Zayn relaxes into it Liam just laughs.

It’s progress and two days later when Louis leaves to go find adventure somewhere else, Liam doesn’t make himself get up and leave too, even though he and Zayn are alone now. He sees Zayn look at him, questioning, but he doesn’t look back. He just continues messing about on his phone.

“Go back to your book, Z,” he says softly. “I’m not leaving.”

It might be his imagination, but he thinks he sees Zayn smile a bit.

 

* * *

 

He serenades Zayn on stage.

Zayn just stares at him, face carefully controlled because there are thousands of flashing cameras on them right now, and Liam’s actually kind of grateful for that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Zayn broke down right now.

Serenading Zayn used to be a part of every show, even after they broke up, Liam still did it. Sometimes he did it maliciously, a petty way to get back at Zayn for destroying what they had, but most of the time he had done it simply because it was what was expected of him.

He’s not sure what makes this time different, but he knows that it is. He turned to Zayn without even thinking about it, and as he sings at him, he actually lets himself smile around the lyrics. Zayn finally breaks into a hesitant smile then, eyes going just the tiniest bit soft before he quickly looks away.

Liam’s heart thumps unevenly in his chest and it doesn’t hurt. He doesn’t feel even an echo of the usual ache he does. His heart races, and for the first time in a long time, it has nothing to do with missing Zayn.

It still has everything to do with Zayn and that –

That is definitely progress.

 

* * *

 

Liam can feel them changing. Some days, he has to physically catch himself from acting exactly like that kid with floppy hair on the X Factor, that kid who worshipped Zayn, who hung onto his words, who craved his company all the time.

He feels himself starting to love Zayn again, really love him.

And he thinks Zayn feels the same. He laughs more, smiles with the boys; he and Harry even spend time together, like they used to before everyone picked sides.

It feels good, great even, and all of the boys are basking in it. They feel like a band again, just that dumb boy band who didn’t even win X Factor but somehow made it big anyways.

Occasionally, he still catches Zayn slipping of. He’ll still see a flash of something endlessly sad in Zayn’s eyes, and he’ll have to convince himself not to go after him. Like today.

Liam’s giggling like mad as Louis and Niall wrestle, Louis’s shirt absolutely soaked because Niall dumped a water bottle on him (“For being gross you twat. Nobody wants to see your fucking hand down Harry’s trousers.”). Harry’s whinging at them to stop, but he’s grinning like that’s the last thing he wants, and Liam –

He looks up and meets Zayn eyes and winks, just like he used to. Zayn laughs back, loud, and it feels exactly like a million times from before they ever broke up.

When Zayn gets up and silently leaves a few seconds later, Liam makes himself stay put. He can’t go after Zayn, not yet. It’s not the right way.

When they get back together –

Liam’s mind careens to a screeching halt at the thought.

 _When._ He thought when, not if. For the first time, Liam thought when.

When they get back together, like they will, like Liam thinks they can. Like it’ll happen.

_When._

“Li?”

His head snaps up to see Harry grinning widely at him. “What?”

“Why are you grinning at your knee like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

And Liam can feel it then, the way he’s grinning so wide his cheeks kind of hurt with it. He wants to tell Harry, wants to tell everyone, but –

Not yet.

“No reason,” he grins larger and laughs when Harry looks mildly concerned.

 

* * *

 

Liam starts hanging around Zayn even more after that.

He throws himself onto couches with his head in Zayn’s lap more often. He plays with Zayn’s hair and compliments the new style. He lays on Zayn’s bed.

He flirts. Christ, Liam actually flirts with Zayn, and it’s kind of awful, and he doesn’t think Zayn even understands what he’s trying to do, but he doesn’t care.

Liam has a plan again.

He wants Zayn back; the decision’s already been made. He’s still struggling to forgive Zayn for that last reason, but it doesn’t feel impossible now, so he’s moving forward. He wants to date Zayn again, but he wants to do it differently this time.

Last time, they launched into it. No stops, no worries, no control (he winces slightly at the awful pun, but well, it’s true). They believed that because they fit together so naturally, they wouldn’t have to work at it. Like just because they fit together, they always would. They took it for granted.

Liam doesn’t want to do that again.

He wants dates and separate houses and fucking courting. He wants to go to horrible restaurants where everything is overpriced even though it’s awful. He wants to see movies he won’t even remember because he spends the whole time looking at Zayn instead of the screen. He wants nervous kisses on front porches and hand holding.

He wants to date, actually date, and –

And he wants it to be public.

It makes his blood run a little cold, and his heart stutter, but Liam sticks to it. He’s not sure Zayn will agree, is terrified that he won’t, but it’s what Liam wants.

He wants to fall in love the way most people do. He doesn’t get to have a normal life, but he can have this. He can have quiet confessions at midnight and finding out little quirks about the other person and meeting the family and all of it.

So he plans it. He flirts with Zayn, and he goes over what he’ll have to do, how he’ll approach it, and he waits.

He waits because tour isn’t the right time to do it. He knows that, and even though it kills him, he’ll wait. They have a break in April, he thinks, and he can wait until then.

He can do it because he wants Zayn, and he’s willing to do anything to make it work.

 

(And he still doesn’t quite forgive Zayn for taking the easy way out, but he figures that will take time. He’ll get there eventually).

 

* * *

 

Liam’s plan goes to shit two days later, and he’s not at all surprised that it’s Louis’s fault.

They’re all staggering into the dressing room after their final performance in Australia, and Louis, of course, wants to go out. He’s pestering Zayn currently, clinging to him and just coming back every time Zayn shoves him off with a laugh. Liam’s only half-listening as he peels out of his concert shirt.

“Want a broken pinky mate?” Niall laughs, and Liam frowns until he realizes that Louis must have pinky promised something. “Because we know you won’t keep that promise, and Zayn’ll definitely break your pinky.”

Liam hides his grin by turning away to apply deodorant, but he still hears Louis whine, “Harry won’t let him.”

He can’t quiet his laugh at that. Turning around and tugging his other shirt on, he shakes his head. “Like Harry’s such great protection?”

Harry protests immediately when they all look at him, his flowery shirt not at all helping him appear tougher. “I could take Zayn, especially if Louis’s hands are at stake. I need those for –”

“Don’t,” Zayn grimaces, and Liam feels like joining him. “It’s bad enough that neither of you can be quiet while fucking. We don’t need the details.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Louis shoots back, and Liam tunes him out as a spike of just that – jealousy – flutters in his stomach.

It’s not that he wants Louis and Harry’s relationship (he really, really doesn’t – it’s all too much, from how they fight to how they fuck honestly, and Liam would never survive something so chaotic) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss his. More and more, Liam finds himself thinking about that first year with Zayn, and he’s always struck with a wave of intense longing. Longing and lust, not that he really wants to think about how he got off to the memory of Zayn eating him out yesterday morning.

(Or how Zayn’s body looks when it’s on display for Liam. Like – _Zayn kneeling on the bed, smirking over his naked his shoulder at Liam. His back is flexed, every muscle standing out, and his thin legs look strong as he waits for Liam to join him_ ).

Yeah, none of that is really helpful right now.

Liam glances back over, looking for a distraction, just in time to see Louis cling to a half-dressed Zayn and exclaim, “Never!”

He catches Zayn’s eye as he chuckles, and Zayn groans. “Just come out with us, man,” Liam finds himself encouraging it. He doesn’t really think about how it’s the first time he’ll be going out with Zayn since the breakup if Zayn agrees. He just wants him there, suddenly.

Zayn shoves Louis away though, after giving Liam only a small smile. “I’m tired –”

“Zayn!” Louis cuts him off, and Liam glances at him in surprise, only to see Louis staring at Zayn’s bicep looking just as surprised. “No fucking way!”

It feels like a cruel joke as Liam turns toward Zayn slowly, like the universe wants to mock his pain (because he’ll never forget this same thing happening when the Perrie tattoo appeared), and Zayn slaps his hand over his arm just like then.

But also just like then, he’s not quite quick enough. Louis manages to pry his fingers away, baring his arm, and he’s still chattering away, but Liam can’t hear him. He’s too busy staring at Zayn’s arm where a girl that looked a lot like Perrie used to be.

It’s gone, or well, covered up actually. Liam could probably see pieces of the old ink behind the new if he really tried, but he doesn’t want to seek it out. He’s too focused on the new ink.

Zayn’s got three distinct new pieces on his arm, and Liam recognizes them immediately. Even as Zayn shifts his arm away like he wants to hide it, Liam is thinking back to Zayn’s art room. He hadn’t really studied the walls, hadn’t gotten the chance, but he recognizes those lungs, shredded and black. It’s not hard to guess that the other two – something that looks like a spray paint can and some words that Liam couldn’t read – are also from that room.

Zayn’s art room, the one that was covered in pieces of Liam.

It slams into him all at once, what Zayn’s done, and it’s –

“Permanent,” he breathes out, completely unaware that he’s actually finishing Louis’s sentence. He can’t look away from Zayn’s arm, even though he can’t see the new ink anymore. He wants to see it though, wants to study it extensively, but mostly he wants to ask Zayn if it means what Liam thinks – hopes – it does.

If it means that Zayn really meant it when he said that he’d wait for however long it took for Liam, that he’d always be waiting.

He locks eyes with Zayn, needing to know, and it’s there in Zayn’s eyes. _Yes._

All of the air leaves Liam’s lungs, and he’s ignoring the others as they leave. He’s walking towards Zayn slowly, taking in the way he’s tensed up to flee, but he needs to see. He needs to know.

“Can I –” he murmurs, already reaching for Zayn’s arm.

“Yeah.” Zayn shifts his arm forward, and Liam gently wraps his fingers around Zayn’s bicep, controlling a shiver at the feel of Zayn under his hands again.

He was right.

It’s all Liam can think as he studies the three splashes of ink. He was right, but he needs Zayn to confirm it. “It’s – is it – these are from your spare room.”

Zayn nods, but Liam’s reading the words etched into his skin and hardly notices.

He recognized the lungs and the other one is definitely a spray paint can, but the words –

_Just let me know._

He’d know those words anywhere, has been repeating them endlessly to himself for weeks now. Zayn’s promise, the one Liam wasn’t sure he could keep, is now forever inked into his skin.

Liam can’t help but trace them, like he needs to make sure they aren’t going to smudge off. They don’t, and he traces them again and again and again, until he thinks that his finger should come away with a stain.

“Explain them to me?” he begs hungrily, watching Zayn. He needs to hear it.

“I –” Zayn starts, wide-eyed like he can’t believe that Liam really wants an explanation.

“No. Not here,” Liam’s quick to stop him, heart pounding. “The hotel.”

He thinks he knows what Zayn’s going to say, and he doesn’t want to do that here. He wants to be alone when Zayn tells him.

 

Liam doesn’t really let himself think as they make their way back to the hotel. The only thing he is really aware of is Zayn pressed firmly against his side. Stifling a smile, Liam presses back, trying to reassure him. He knows what Zayn fears (that Liam will change his mind, leave, disappear), but he can’t tell him yet how impossible that is.

He’s steadily calm as they enter Zayn’s room, a perfect contrast to Zayn’s obvious anxiety, right until he pulls Zayn to him. Then his hands tug insistently at the hem, wanting it off, wanting to see his arm again. As soon as Zayn obliges, lifting his arms up and letting Liam strip him down (so easy, so responsive, so Zayn) Liam’s tracing the ink again.

His finger trails down to the words, wanting so badly to press his mouth to them, but he stops himself. Trailing back up the lungs, Liam taps at them once and then shyly looks up at Zayn. He feels vulnerable suddenly, exposed when Zayn’s the one showing his hand right now.

“This was on one of the walls. In your spare room, you painted this.”

“Lungs,” Zayn looks down on them. “They’re lungs.”

“They’re... Can you explain? I usually understand, but this –” He breaks off and looks away because he thinks he does understand, maybe, but he doesn’t want to be wrong. He used to be so confident in reading Zayn’s art, but this feels too important to muck up.

Zayn tilts his face up with a gentle finger, smiling slightly as he stares into Liam’s eyes, like he’s thinking of something else.

“I kind of told you before,” he says after a moment. “In the paint room, about breathing.”

“You said you felt like you couldn’t breathe when you... when we broke up.”

“That’s what it represents. I broke up with you, and I couldn’t breathe anymore. It felt like I took a shredder to my lungs, so I painted it. But also,” he hesitates, just slightly, “I mean I couldn’t breathe, yeah, but I also realized that like you were my lungs. You were, no _are_ vital to me, Li, but not like a heart y’know? Hearts represent too much; they’re too complicated. You were always so simple, simple and vital. My lungs. And then I wrecked it.”

Liam listens to him breathe deeply, like he’s reminding himself that he can and – and it feels familiar. He never thought Zayn was his lungs, but his mind? Yeah, he did. Liam always thought that Zayn was the best parts of him.

“So I picked it as a reminder,” Zayn continues. “Like that I can’t survive without you – because fuck, I really can’t Liam – but also to remind myself of what I’ve done.”

There’s a part of Liam that wants to tell Zayn he doesn’t need to remind himself, but Liam doesn’t say that. Liam’s always been a forgive and forget sort of person, but Zayn, he’s always wanted to remember. He needs the scars, needs to remember what’s hurt him before, to learn from it when Liam’s just always wanted to forget it.

So he doesn’t say anything, because it’s up to Zayn, and drags his finger down to the spray paint can, spilling a flood of blue down Zayn’s arm. He taps it twice, requesting that Zayn explain it next.

“I painted that more recently,” Zayn offers automatically, obeying Liam’s silent command without question. “Like the lungs I painted years ago, when I first ruined everything. But the paint can was probably about five months ago. I was just – I was so lost, and I paint when I feel that way. But I was painting so much because I always felt lost. Like it didn’t matter how much I painted or what I painted, the feeling never went away. Because I was lost without you, and I couldn’t have you anymore. All I had was the paint, and it wasn’t enough. So I sketched the empty can to like capture that I guess.”

“Blue?”

Zayn smiles. “It’s your favorite color, man.”

“Sappy boy,” Liam teases, patiently waiting for the real explanation. He knows there is one, and sure enough Zayn gives in and explains.

“I avoided it for a while. Like I wouldn’t use it. But when I finally admitted to myself how badly I had fucked up, when I finally realized that I had made an honest mistake, no matter my reasons, I clung to it instead. I swear everything in that room was blue for ages.”

“When was that? The blue room?” he’s still building a timeline in his head, trying to figure out how they wasted two entire years being miserable.

“About a year ago.”

That surprises Liam. He hadn’t thought – that was long ago. Even when Zayn had said he knew it was a mistake, Liam thought maybe months ago. But this makes it sound like – “You realized a year ago that...?”

Zayn’s thumb traces Liam’s cheekbone, and Liam shuffles closer, further into the touch. “I know that I made it seem like it was easy for me, Li, but it wasn’t. A year ago I finally admitted that I was wrong, that I shouldn’t have done it. But even before that, I wanted to take it back. Even when I was still lying to myself about how breaking up with you was the right thing to do, it was a struggle every single day not to beg for you back. You have to know that.”

Liam hadn’t. He hadn’t – Fuck. It’s impossible not to see the truth shining in Zayn’s eyes from up this close, and Liam’s breathless with belief. He can’t believe that Zayn truly wanted him that entire time, that he’s been hurting over this for just as long as Liam has.

Two years.

Two years, and Liam doesn’t want to waste another moment.

“The words,” he gasps out because he needs to know. “Tell me about the words.”

“I painted after you left that day,” Zayn says slowly, like he’s trying to figure out how to explain something. “Threw on my trousers and just went at the wall. The actual image isn’t that important, it’s like a vague outline honestly, but when I was done with it, it didn’t look complete. And then, before I really thought about it, I was writing these words out. They were – I said them –”

“You said them to me just before I left. I remember. It was the last thing you said. _Just let me know._ ”

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything. It means everything though. “It was all I could think to offer.”

_It was all you needed to offer._

Liam bites that back though. He rushed this in Zayn’s paint room, and it didn’t solve anything. They need to get it all out now. “But why ink the words?” he prods.

“Because it’s a promise,” Zayn frowns down at where Liam’s fingers absently traces the scrawled ink, “and I’ve broken quite a few promises to you, I know that. I inked Perrie into my skin to remind myself that I couldn’t have you anymore because of all the promises I had broken. So when I decided to ink over it, I wanted a new promise. The last promise I made to you, the only one I could. I put these words here hoping that maybe you’d accept that, my new promise.”

“Poetic,” Liam teases, because he feels like he’s drowning. He’s lost under the crush of Zayn’s love, always so helpless against it. He can’t believe he ever thought it had gone away. “Should’ve been a writer, Malik.”

Zayn says nothing, and Liam’s thankful. He doesn’t think he could handle anymore. His blood is buzzing, mind churning over this last piece. And it is a last piece. Liam can make a complete puzzle now, and the picture it makes is heartbreaking, heartbreaking but not in the way he once thought.

It doesn’t have to be sad, Liam realizes. If he wants, he can change it. He can make it happy instead. He just needs to have the courage. He needs to have the strength.

He needs to forgive.

“You broke my heart y’know.” Zayn’s thumb stills on Liam’s cheekbone, causing Liam to look up only to see Zayn’s eyes slipping closed.

“I know.”

“Like you really – you shattered me,” he stays inside Zayn’s space, hoping he can convey that he’s not ending this without saying it yet. He just – he needs to get this out first. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel right again, and I didn’t. Two years, and I never quite managed to feel whole again.”

“Li –”

“Shhhh,” his hand skims up Zayn’s bare back to tangle into his hair. Zayn presses into it but doesn’t open his eyes. Liam nearly smiles at that. “And now you’re telling me that you felt the same. You’re telling me, no proving to me, that it wasn’t what I thought. You didn’t fall out of love with me. You still love me.”

“I will always love you.”

And that’s it. That’s the moment for Liam.

Zayn’s not defending himself. He’s not arguing or begging for forgiveness or trying to make excuses. He’s just being honest. He’s standing here and letting Liam hurt him, all because he hurt Liam before.

Liam forgives him.

Liam forgives Zayn because he knows that Zayn hasn’t forgiven himself.

It might not make sense to anybody else, but Zayn’s inability to forgive himself proves to Liam that Zayn loves him. Has always loved him. Might always love him now.

If Liam just gives him the chance.

“I believe you.”

Zayn’s eyes fly open. “What?”

Liam grins. “I’ve been thinking about your reasons. The hate and the pressure and how I was hurting, and I get it. I was miserable, and I wanted more from you, and you were afraid, so I understand why you did it. I don’t –” his voice hitches slightly. “I wish you hadn’t. But I understand, and I forgive you.

“And I believe that you never stopped loving me. The more I think over the past two years, the more I remember. Funny isn’t it? That I have to remember when I’m not the one with memory loss? But like, when I thought back over it, it made more sense. The way you hovered around me still. Like when I broke my wrist, remember? And you helped me like it was instinct. It never made sense to me, but now it does.”

It’s just one little thing, almost insignificant, but it means a lot, looking back on it. Knowing now that Zayn was also hurting, it means so much that Zayn helped Liam without comment because he wanted to. Because he still loved Liam, and Liam needed help.

“And now,” he continues fondly. “Now we’re here, and you’re trying so hard. You’re telling me everything, and you’re making promises, fucking permanent promises on your skin, Zayn. And I can see a pile of my clothes in your duffle, and I just – I believe you.”

It’s not nearly as elegant as Zayn’s speech, but it’s what Liam feels.

“You believe me?”

“I believe you,” Liam’s grin widens. “And I love you.”

Zayn laughs, gulping in air as he presses his forehead to Liam’s. He keeps his eyes open, and Liam presses back wanting to burst into laughter of his own at the ecstatic look on Zayn’s face.

“You love me,” Zayn repeats, like a secret. “And fuck, I love you.”

He does laugh then, because he can’t help it. He’s giddy with relief, feeling lighter than he has in ages. He’s always thought that forgiveness sets you free, but he doesn’t feel free now. He feels tethered, linked to Zayn exactly like he wants to be.

“Li, does this mean – are you – have you – ?”

“Zayn,” Liam says softly, knowing exactly what Zayn wants to hear. He’s missed it, his implicit understanding of whatever Zayn’s thinking; it wraps around him like a familiar place, somewhere he belongs. So it’s not even a question as he says, “I’m letting you know.”

Zayn still manages to catch him by surprise when he surges forward and kisses him. It’s a hard kiss, like Zayn’s trying to bruise Liam’s lips to his own, and any other time, Liam would be happy to oblige. But not this time.

He gentles the kiss with his hands on either side of Zayn’s head. Turning it into a soft press of lips, he traces Zayn’s bottom lip with his tongue to slow them down. Zayn responds instantly, letting Liam dictate the pace. His tongue tangles sweetly with Liam’s own, and he sighs into the next soft kiss.

They move so fucking slow.

Even when Liam picks Zayn up and carries him to the bed, they kiss slowly. He wants Zayn, makes it obvious as he rocks their hips together, but he shushes him when Zayn hisses.

“I’ve got you babe,” he promises after soothing skin he’s marked up.

“Leeyum.”

The harsh whine shakes Liam’s control for a moment, along with Zayn’s fingers over Liam’s bare skin, their clothes long forgotten, but Liam’s determined. “I want it slow,” he admits. He rolls his hips so Zayn gets the message, and the way Zayn’s mouth parts tells Liam that he understands. He presses closer, so he can tease at Zayn’s ear when he whispers, “I want to take it so slow. I want to rock into you gently, get you so close on just my cock. I want to build you up so softly that you don’t realize until you come. I want it slow.”

The way Zayn’s breathing hitches is music to Liam’s ears as he pulls back to gaze at the wrecked boy underneath him. “How does that sound, baby?” he presses the question into Zayn’s chest, fitting his mouth over those inked lips. “Or I could blow you until you’re right on the edge? Eat you out until you’re sobbing? What do you want Zayn?”

“You,” Zayn responds instantly as Liam moves further down his torso with gentle kisses. “I want you. I want you to do what you want. Whatever you want.”

Liam hums, like he’s thinking it over, when in reality he already knows exactly what he’s going to do. He presses a kiss to the dark heart on Zayn’s hips and then another because this is one piece of ink that he does remember. He avoids Zayn’s cock directly as he nips and licks at Zayn’s hips, always so fascinated by the jutting bones and slightly lighter skin where the sun never reaches.

“I want you to fall apart on my cock,” he states, as calmly as he can after he’s sure that Zayn’s a mess beneath him. “I want you to sob as you come because I’ve fucked you until you can’t even think. I want you to _feel_ it tomorrow every time you move.”

“Yes,” Zayn hisses trying to find friction that Liam’s unwilling to provide. “Liam, please, yes. Fuck me slow. Make me feel it. I want –”

He kisses Zayn, more undone by his words than Liam wants to let on. “Alright, babe.”

He leaves the bed for only a moment, called back instantly by the distressed noise Zayn makes. Zayn’s spread out on the bed, having not moved, and Liam smiles fondly down at him, lube clenched in one hand.

Liam loves him, and he shows him with every soft kiss as he slicks up his fingers. He opens him slowly, taking his time and relishing the feel of Zayn around him again. The last time was rough and frantic, so Liam makes up for it now. Zayn’s falling apart around him when Liam finally works up to three fingers, dancing along his prostate with easy familiarity.

When Liam finally begins to press his cock in, Zayn gasps, “I love you. Liam – Jaan – I love you.”

He doesn’t respond, thrusting slow until he’s all the way in, leaning down further to nudge against Zayn’s prostate. “I love you too, Zayn. Baby. Jaan.”

He uses slow rolls of his hips and shallow thrusts to undo Zayn. Grinding down, he moves slowly and keeps himself pressed against Zayn. Liam wants to feel every hitch of his breath, wants to touch every part of Zayn as he finally begins to come apart.

“Feel so good,” he breathes out tightly. “Feel so good around my cock, Zayn, so tight. Christ, I love you. Want you to come, babe, please come on my cock –”

He keeps on Zayn’s prostate endlessly until finally he feels Zayn tensing underneath him. His orgasm washes over him slowly, and Liam drags it out with gentle thrusts, biting his lip hard to keep himself steady. He wants to keep it so good for Zayn, perfect, but then Zayn’s begging, “Li, you too, please, I want –”

Liam gives in with a groan. Burying his head in Zayn’s chest and pressing open-mouthed kisses against his slick skin, he thrusts harder and faster. He tries to keep off Zayn’s cock, aware of how sensitive he might feel having just come without a hand on him, but Zayn’s gripping him tightly, not allowing distance. A few more thrusts, Zayn’s walls clenching around him, and Liam hurtles over the edge.

He tastes Zayn’s name on his tongue as he comes.

Collapsing afterwards, Liam pulls out. Zayn shifts them further until he can cuddle into Liam’s side, intertwining their bodies completely. Their breathing evens out together, and it’s a perfect kind of calm-quiet. When Zayn inhales deeply against Liam’s neck, Liam tangles his fingers in his longer hair.

“I love you,” Zayn says, fingers pressing hard just over Liam’s heart.

Liam tilts his head up so he can look at him. Zayn’s looking at him like he’s the world, and it’s a look Liam hasn’t seen in far too long. It feels like them again, like how they were before, how they were always meant to be.

Zayn doesn’t look like he’s searching for Liam to say it back as he settles into him, but Liam wants to say it anyway.

He whispers it, just between them, “I love you too.”


	3. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this all takes place right after the night before (so basically before the epilogue in Just Let Me Know).

Part V:

           

The mattress tips under Liam, and he shifts with it automatically, wondering for half a moment which of the lads has crawled into his bed this time. A finger lightly traces around his chin, playing with the stubble, and it all comes flooding back.

_Zayn._

Liam swears he can smell him now, warmth and spice tinged with something dark and lingering, and there’s not a trace of smoke. His lips twitch, just a bit, because Zayn must’ve just woken up if he hasn’t even gone for a smoke yet.

It’s all so wonderfully familiar, so right in a way the world hasn’t felt for two years.

“You awake?” Zayn nearly whispers it, like he’s afraid that Liam isn’t.

Liam brings him closer with the arm still trapped underneath his head. He doesn’t bother to open his eyes as he nuzzles his face in Zayn’s hair – smelling faintly of sweat and sex, barely covered by the muted scent of sleep and yeah, Liam thinks they probably should have showered after that last round but –

“Why’re you up ‘fore me?” he mumbles tiredly. His lips feel swollen and bruised, and he loves it. His entire body aches but so pleasantly that Liam doesn’t want to move even to stretch.

“Was watching you.” Zayn sounds hesitant, and his fingers are still far too light over Liam’s skin, but it’s the way his breathing stutters that finally forces Liam to open his eyes.

He blinks, trying to clear his vision, and when it finally does, he instantly smiles. Zayn’s staring up at him, chin just barely resting against Liam’s chest. One arm drapes over Liam, fingers nearly touching the birthmark on Liam’s neck.

Beautiful, Liam can’t help but think. Zayn’s beauty doesn’t mean much to Liam, certainly less than any other part of Zayn, but it still surprises him sometimes.

It takes another moment, then, for Zayn’s expression to register.

Liam melts. “Oh Zayn.”

Zayn shifts uncomfortably, casting his worried eyes away but not pulling away from Liam.

Liam’s thankful because he thinks it would still probably hurt if Zayn pulled away from him right now. “Z,” he mutters, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Zayn’s head. “Hey, jaan, look at me.” The nickname does it, as Liam knew it would.

“Do you mean it?” Zayn’s lips tremble just slightly, but he presses them together like he doesn’t want Liam to see. His vulnerability is shining in his eyes though, his uncertainty captured in the hunch of his shoulders.

“That you’re my life?” Liam questions just to make sure. Zayn nods. “Of course.”

And he is. Zayn slotted right back into all the hollow places that Liam never managed to fill, and Liam knows that this contentment can’t possibly last, but right now he’s not worried about that. He doesn’t want to worry about all of the difficulties they’re going to face, not yet.

He’s forgiven Zayn, and he wants to move on. He can’t hold onto to every past hurt, can’t hold onto every single mistake, if he wants to be happy with Zayn. And he does want to be happy with Zayn. More than anything.

Zayn shudders out a breath, eyes slipping shut and his shoulders loosening. “I woke up and – I wasn’t sure. It felt too good to be real. I’ve missed you so much, Li.”

Liam presses a kiss to Zayn’s hairline, aching slightly at the way Zayn’s voice cracks just a bit. He hadn’t even thought about it, how Zayn’s doubts might linger. He thought he’d pressed all of that away last night, but he understands why in the harsh light of day they might come back.

“I don’t want to mess up again,” Zayn whispers, turning his face into Liam’s chest.

“We won’t.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, but Liam says it anyways.

Zayn laughs, though, just a little, so Liam counts it as a win. “You won’t, because you’re perfect, but I definitely will.”

“Oh Zayn,” Liam sighs. He doesn’t want to get into this, not so early in the morning, but he can’t let Zayn continue like this, blaming himself. It’s what he did before, when Liam was so clearly hurting, and it led in part to their breakup. “I’m not perfect,” he argues gently, keeping his voice soft as he cards his hand through Zayn’s hair. “I’m not even close. I kept things from you too, you know.”

“Liam,” Zayn looks up at him, brown eyes devastated.

Liam just sighs again and presses a quick kiss to Zayn’s lips. “I don’t want to fight with you, but I will. I absolutely will if you only blame yourself. We were both responsible Zayn. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, we could have worked this out before you lost your memory.”

Zayn bites his lip, like he wants to argue, but he’s clearly heading Liam’s warning. Finally he just shakes his head. “Perfect, like I said. You’re a fucking angel, Payne.”

Liam laughs. “Clearly, you don’t remember last night. Don’t think angels do that.”

The flush that colors Zayn’s cheeks is stunning, but Liam doesn’t really understand it. Zayn’s never been shy about their sex life; if anything, Liam was.

“Oh, I remember last night,” he says, voice a bit rougher than a moment before. “And I definitely don’t deserve you.”

“Zayn,” his voice is pure warning. It hurts Liam to hear Zayn says things like that because he thinks that Zayn truly believes them now. He can’t let that happen. Once you start thinking less of yourself, it’s so hard to get back. Liam knows.

Zayn shakes his head and presses a gentle kiss to Liam’s lips. “I know you don’t want me to say that, but it’s true Liam. It’s going to take me a while to forgive myself for what I did to you. I hurt you, babe, the one person I never wanted to hurt.”

“I hurt you, too,” Liam reminds him, because it needs to be said.

“It’s not the same.”

“Maybe not, but it still matters. It’s going to take work to get back to where we were, but I’m not going to let you blame yourself in the meantime. I don’t want that. I want us to be better because of this.”

“Perfect,” Zayn says for the third time, but this time a slight smile tweaks his lips, so Liam lets go.

He knows they’re going to have to come back to this, multiple times probably, but the morning is growing around them, and he’s in bed with Zayn again, and they’re in love. Liam just wants to live in this bubble for a moment.

Zayn’s smile widens, and he reaches out to softly trace down Liam’s cheek. Liam lets his eyes flutter shut and hums in contentment. “You need to shave.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Zayn digs his chin, scratching Liam’s chest slightly with his beard. “Don’t you like it?”

He does. Zayn looks amazing with facial hair, but Liam doesn’t want to give in. So he throws out, “Would like something else on your face better.”

He expects Zayn to make a shocked noise, to laugh or hit at him maybe. What he thoroughly does not expect though, is for Zayn to hum in contemplation and then slip further down his body.

Liam’s eyes bug open as Zayn yanks the sheet down, exposing their bottom halves to the air. “Zayn, what –” He chokes off when Zayn’s nimble fingers circle around the base of his cock. He’s half hard already, just from waking up, and Zayn’s fingers feel amazing.

“I think that could be arranged,” Zayn says, almost conversationally.

“Shit,” Liam breathes out. Zayn smirks at him. “I, uh – I didn’t really mean – you don’t have to.” Liam’s tongue feels too big in his mouth because he honestly hadn’t even thought about that, but now it’s dangling before him. He never thought that’d be something he’d be into, but judging by the rapid way his cock is filling it definitely is.

“Want to come on my face, Leeyum?”

“Fuck.”

Zayn laughs. “Come on then.” He hooks Liam’s ankles as he slides off the edge of the bed, landing gently on his knees. “You’re going to have to stand up for this. Don’t want it all over the bed. I want to sleep again after this.”

“Zayn –” Liam’s tone is hesitant, but he’s following Zayn. His feet feel unsteady as he stands, cock coming level with Zayn’s mouth as Zayn grips his hips. “Really, you don’t have to –”

“I want to.”

Liam makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat, and Zayn bites his bottom lip to control his smirk. He’s looking up at Liam through his long lashes, hair a mess, and the tattoos covering his shoulders and arms are so dark against his skin in the soft glow of morning light.

“Gorgeous,” Liam sighs out, weaving a gentle hand through Zayn’s hair.

Zayn’s eyes flutter close, and he presses a quick kiss to Liam’s hip. “I missed that,” he admits softly. “The way you look at me, sometimes. The compliments... No one’s ever loved me like you do, jaan.”

Liam’s heart flutters because that’s such a different statement from saying I’ve never loved anyone like you. It’s more vulnerable in a way, like you’re admitting that you won’t ever get anything better, won’t ever want anything else, like this person is all you’ll need.

“Be gentle, yeah?” Zayn’s saying before Liam can formulate a response. “I haven’t done this since the last time with you.”

“Really?” Liam blurts out, distracted even with his hard cock centimeters from Zayn’s reddened lips.

Zayn looks up at him, just slightly hesitant, like he knows this will be a touchy subject. “I’ve only been with Perrie since you, and even then – it wasn’t very often, is all.”

And suddenly all Liam can think about are all the strangers he brought back. He thinks of the men and the women, and then of Sophia too. “Oh, God, Zayn,” he barely breathes out.

“Don’t,” Zayn shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

It does, Liam wants to argue. It really does, and he means to push Zayn away, to make him talk about it, but then Zayn swoops in. He takes the head of Liam’s cock into his plush mouth without any warning, and Liam gasps.

“Zayn.”

Zayn traces his slit with his tongue, sucking lightly before he draws off. “I don’t want you to think about it,” his tone is demanding as he maintains eye contact with Liam. “I just want you to be here, with me. We’ll deal with it all later, like you said.” He waits until Liam nods (overwhelmed but willing to do as Zayn asks) before he goes back to it.

Liam groans almost as soon as Zayn’s lips wrap around him again. He means to watch, but finds he can’t, especially when Zayn doesn’t look away from him. It’s too much, watching his length disappear into Zayn’s mouth. Zayn bobs, taking more every time he sinks down, and his tongue traces the vein underneath each time. Liam’s fighting not to thrust into the wet heat, gasping when Zayn sucks hard as he pulls back again. His tongue flicks just underneath the head, hitting the cluster of nerves there and making Liam’s toes curl.

“Zayn,” he sighs out, eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of Zayn’s mouth on him again. They fucked last night, multiple times, but this is still so much. Exhilarating and familiar in the best way.

When Zayn bobs down the next time, the head of Liam’s cock hits the soft back of his throat. Liam groans, his hands tightening in Zayn’s hair where they’re both buried now. Zayn moans around his cock, fingers digging into Liam’s hips.

“Yeah?” Liam breathes, blinking his eyes open and daring to look down. Zayn’s still looking back up at him, tears gathering in the very corners of his eyes, but his pupils are blown wide. Liam tugs again, gasping when Zayn hums around his length. He’d forgotten about Zayn’s hair, can’t believe he didn’t remember as he does it again.

Zayn draws off with a pop. “Fuck, Li. This was supposed to be about you.”

“Like it too,” Liam mumbles. “Like getting you off. Zayn come on.”

“Warn me,” Zayn states firmly. “When you’re about to come, so I can pull off.”

Liam nods eagerly, any hesitation about this long gone. Zayn dips down on his dick again, tongue laving at the head as he strives to make Liam come. And Liam can feel his orgasm approaching. Zayn’s mouth is too much, and he’s so turned on. A few more moments of endless pressure, and Liam’s right there.

“Zayn.” It’s all the warning he can give. Zayn pulls off just as Liam comes, and he ends up with some on his lips. Liam just watches as he comes over Zayn’s face, white clinging to the scruff over his cheeks.

 _Beautiful,_ he thinks, and then instantly feels dirty for it. But Zayn looks amazing. His cock is hard, bobbing between his legs, and he’s licking Liam’s come off where he can reach it. Liam hesitantly untangles his hands and traces his finger through Zayn’s beard. Zayn opens his mouth, and Liam’s cock throbs when he sucks Liam’s finger clean.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Fuck, Zayn.” Zayn just smiles at him, not the least bit bothered, and Liam needs him, now. “Get up here,” he nearly begs. “Fuck, get up here.”

Zayn climbs to unsteady feet, confusion marring his brow. It quickly turns to surprise though when Liam grabs him and twists so they’re falling on the bed, Zayn underneath him.

“Oh.” Zayn’s looking up at him with wide, dark eyes as Liam balances himself above him on his elbows. “Li, you don’t have to –”

“Hush,” Liam wraps his hand around Zayn’s length. “Want to.”

 

Later, when he’s given Zayn two orgasms because he’s still struck by the image of Zayn on his knees with Liam’s come on his face, Liam presses a kiss over the words inked on Zayn’s arm.

“Think you need to wear tank tops for the rest of tour,” he murmurs against Zayn’s skin. His tongue traces the curve of the letters. “Definitely need to wear tank tops.”

“You keep doing that, and I’m never going to put on a shirt,” Zayn mumbles back, eyes closed like he was serious about going back to sleep.

Liam really thinks about it but – “No. Only I get to see you like this.”

Zayn snorts. “Sure. Anything for you, Li.”

“Anything?” Liam shoves up again to look down on Zayn.

Zayn’s eyes fly open. “You can’t be serious?” He looks both incredulous and amused. “Liam you literally just came like twenty minutes ago.”

“Plenty of time to recover,” Liam argues.

Zayn outright laughs, tangling his arms around Liam and tracing over his shoulder blades. “What kind of monster are you? I need to rest, Liam.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Liam offers, waggling his eyebrows suggestively but completely serious. He wants Zayn again. Before Zayn can respond – looking like he’s about to give in – a knock sounds at the door.

They both freeze, comically, only moving again when they hear Niall say, “Liam? Zayn? Are you guys, like alive in there?”

“Want to bet that Louis is just down the hall, hissing instructions at him?” Zayn wonders.

Liam laughs, easily seeing that. “Probably.”

Niall knocks again. “I can hear you. Open the door. We want to talk.”

“Do we have to?” Zayn wonders.

Liam debates, because he really doesn’t want to but –

“They were there for us,” he murmurs quietly. “All of them, for the past two years.”

Zayn’s face sobers, and he nods. “Yeah. No, you’re right. Come on. Let’s get dressed.”

They do, Liam smugly pulling his own clothes out of Zayn’s duffle and then making both of them wear them. He’s surprised when they fit him better than he expected.

Zayn blushes when he notices Liam’s questioning look. “I might have been stealing some of your stuff.”

Liam melts and drags him into a quick kiss that quickly turns heavy.

“Guys!” Niall shouts. “Seriously! I will get someone to give us another key!”

Liam huffs. “This conversation is not over.”

“Right, sure,” Zayn agrees, looking dazed. He stumbles behind Liam as Liam swings the door open.

Niall stands on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets like this is the last place he wants to be. “Oh thank Christ,” he mutters, relief audible. “I really thought for a moment –”

“Holy shit,” Louis comes bouncing around the corner, his blue eyes focused on Zayn’s throat as Harry follows slowly behind him. “Liam, did you turn into a vampire? Lou’ll never be able to cover that up.” He skips right past Liam and right into Zayn, knocking his chin up to study the mark. Liam flushes. It is pretty bad, so purple it’s nearly blue. “Fuck, did this bleed?”

“Sod off,” Zayn waves Louis’s hands away, slapping a hand over the mark and then hissing. Liam makes a distressed noise and instantly reaches for him. Peeling Zayn’s hand away, he presses a gentle kiss to the mark in apology. He doesn’t remember biting that hard. Zayn relaxes into his arms, pressing closer and sighing in satisfaction. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry,” Liam still murmurs, keeping one arm wrapped around Zayn’s waist as he traces a finger around the edges of the impressive mark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Zayn’s eyes go soft around the edges. “You didn’t. Promise.”

“Right,” Niall’s voice startles them, and they glance over to see their three bandmates outright staring at them. Niall at least doesn’t look completely shocked. Harry and Louis look like they’ve seen a ghost though. “So that’s our answer then,” Niall continues, smiling easily. “Guess we can be off then.”

“Sorry?” Zayn wonders.

“We just came to see if you two were y’know,” Niall waves between them. “Back together or not. Clearly, you are.”

“Oh,” Liam flushes. “Well, yeah we –”

“So that’s it?” Harry’s voice breaks in, and he sounds worried. Liam blinks at him in surprise, but he didn’t hear wrong. Harry looks worried. “That’s all? You guys are just back together again? Everything’s forgiven?” He shoots a pointed look at Zayn, who shrinks under the intensity of it.

Liam pulls him closer naturally. “Haz,” Liam’s confusion bleeds into his voice. “I thought you and Zayn were fine now.”

“We are,” Harry’s brow furrows. “But that doesn’t mean I think you two should get back together. He really hurt you, Li. I don’t think –”

“Well it’s not like Liam didn’t hurt Zayn back,” Louis cuts in, folding his arms and fixing a look at Harry. “You’re just taking Liam’s side because you never bothered to hear what Zayn had to say.”

“Louis,” Harry shoots him a pleading look, like this isn’t the first time they’ve argued over Zayn and Liam. “I’m not saying Liam didn’t also mess up. But I still think –”

“Does it matter what we think?” Zayn cuts in suddenly. Everyone looks at him. “Look, I know you guys were there for us – and I’m grateful, really – but this is up to me and Liam.”

“But can you be trusted?” Harry presses. “No offense, Zayn, but would we even be here right now if you hadn’t lost your memories?”

“Harry,” Liam hisses, just as Zayn says, “Yes.”

Harry blinks at him while Louis looks like he just inarguably won their argument. “What?”

“I wanted Liam back,” Zayn states calmly, and Liam knew that, he did, but it’s different hearing it now, in front of everyone else. “I’ve already told him, but I –” he cuts off and turns to face Liam. “I meant to tell you this too, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

“The night Louis and I crashed, we were out driving around because I couldn’t stand it anymore. I felt like I was dying, watching you be with other people, watching you be with anyone but me. I made Louis drive so that I could tell him I wanted you back. That’s what we were talking about. I was telling Louis that I was going to beg for you to take me back. I was always going to want you back, Li.”

Liam – he kind of stops thinking for a moment. He – he supposes it’s not entirely unexpected now that he knows everything, but it also kind of is. Zayn would have had to _beg_ for Liam back, and Liam can’t imagine that. He can’t imagine Zayn begging like that.

“It’s true,” Louis cuts in, shooting a pointed look at Harry. “That’s what we were talking about. I was trying to convince him to do some grand romantic gesture.”

“No,” Liam says instantly, still staring at Zayn in something like wonder. “That wouldn’t have worked. I wouldn’t have –”

“Listened, yeah,” Zayn smiles slightly. “That’s what I told him. I was going to wait until we got home, go to your house, and – well, and beg for another chance basically.”

Liam still can’t believe it, might ask Zayn to explain it further later, but for now he just pulls Zayn closer. He nuzzles into the space between his jaw and ear, pressing a kiss to his skin. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly, just for Zayn.

“Oh shit,” Harry breathes, making him pull back. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Haz,” Zayn shakes his head, shooting Liam an embarrassed smile. “Really I don’t –”

“Well thank fuck,” Niall interrupts, grinning like mad. They all stare at him. “What? It was bloody awful watching you fuckers all love each other and be miserable. Ruined my day all the time. You’re all idiots, but now at least you’re happy idiots.”

Liam snorts as Zayn and Harry laugh and Louis makes an indignant sound. Niall laughs then, and suddenly they’re all laughing. The five of them stand halfway in and out of a hotel room and laugh until they can’t breathe, and it feels –

It feels like the beginning again. Perfect, in a way.

“Okay,” Liam finally breathes out, steadying himself. “So if you all would kindly leave, I’d like to –”

“What? Shag Zayn?” Niall wiggles his eyebrows as Zayn rolls his eyes and tilts his head up to glare at the ceiling. “Like you haven’t –”

“Is that come on your face?”

Liam immediately flushes hard and nearly snaps his neck as he looks at Zayn. Zayn, for once, looks just as embarrassed as Liam feels, wide-eyed as he looks back at Liam.

“Oh my god!” Louis continues, voice reaching frighteningly high. “Oh my god! That’s disgusting! What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” Zayn hisses, and Liam sees it, just a bit dried in Zayn’s facial hair. Zayn buries his head in Liam’s chest before he can decide if he should try to get it off or not. “Just shut up, Louis.”

Louis cackles, looking like Christmas came early. “Did you let him come on you? Christ! You must love him, to let him come on that pretty face. I mean –”

Harry claps a hand over Louis’s mouth and looks apologetic. “Sorry.”

Liam just looks at them, really not sure what he could possibly say here. Niall also looks lost for words, while Louis is trying to rip Harry’s hand away from his mouth.

“Just leave,” Zayn begs, voice muffled in Liam’s shirt. “Please, just go.”

“Will do,” Niall answers instantly, helping Harry herd Louis away. Louis doesn’t put up much of a fight, which Liam strongly suspects has something to do with whatever Harry whispers in his ear.

With a last, “Have fun shagging!” call from Niall, the three of them disappear, leaving a shocking silence in their wake.

Liam’s not entirely sure what just happened, if he’s being honest. He feels sort of like he’s dreaming.

Zayn for his part, seems to want to stay buried in Liam’s chest. “Is there any chance,” he finally says slowly, “that we can go back to bed and pretend that all of this never happened?”

“We can try,” Liam says amicably.

Zayn groans and then turns and marches into the room without another backward glance. Liam follows.

“I can’t believe Louis,” Zayn is fuming, tugging his shirt off and throwing it in the vicinity of his bag. “Of course he would just say that. Fucker. I don’t know why I even bother with him. Honestly, it’s not like Niall wouldn’t be better. Louis is just –”

“Zayn,” Liam says hesitantly, mind still firmly fixed on something else. His quiet, uncertain, voice snaps Zayn out of it right away.

“Li?” his eyes darken with worry, and he’s at Liam’s side in an instant, hands coming up to cradle Liam’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“Was that really why you were out driving that night?”

Zayn immediately catches on. “Oh Liam. Babe, don’t you dare try and blame yourself.”

“But you were –”

“No,” Zayn says firmly, refusing to let Liam look away. “You listen to me, Liam James Payne; Louis and I probably would have ended up driving anyways. Just because we happened to be talking about you doesn’t mean a damn thing. It’s not your fault. Got it?”

Liam sucks in a stabilizing breath of air, calmed by the absolute certainty in Zayn’s eyes. “Okay,” he agrees, wrapping his hands around Zayn’s hips. “Yeah, no, you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Zayn winks at him, looking not at all ridiculous like Liam does when he winks. Liam smiles slightly back at him. “Now, I want a shower,” Zayn continues, pressing up with a short kiss for Liam, which Liam tries to respond to but he’s still focused on what Louis said. “Is there something else?” Zayn asks knowingly, shifting back again to study Liam’s face.

“I just –” Liam stares at him. “Were you really going to beg for me back?”

Zayn looks down, and then looks back up through his eyelashes, hesitantly biting at his lip, like he knows he’s making himself vulnerable here. It makes Liam’s breath catch, even before Zayn’s saying, “Yes.

“Liam, there never was a time that I didn’t want you. I was always about to ask for you back, always. Even at my worst moments, if you had asked, I would have taken you back in a heartbeat. So of course I was going to beg for you back. I’d reached my breaking point. I didn’t want to keep doing this, not without you.”

Liam sucks in a hard breath of air, trying to clear his lungs. He feels like he’s about to cry, which is ridiculous, but Zayn just so obviously means it. His eyes shine with earnestness as he looks to make sure that Liam believes him.

And Liam does.

He still knows this is going to be hard. He’s not naïve; he knows that they’ll still have to work for this. It’ll be hard and nearly impossible at times, he’s sure, but he wants it. He’s never wanted anything as much, never been so willing to work for something this hard. It might seem ridiculous to love a boy who broke his heart, to love a boy who he had only been with for little more than two years to begin with, to love a boy who kept them apart for two years after that, but he does.

He loves Zayn, and that’s all that matters.

It’s too much now, too heavy after everything they’ve already been through in just the past 24 hours. So without much thought and to attempt to break the tension, Liam teases, “Not without me, huh? Should I start calling you Bucky?”

It’s painfully off topic, and Liam winces when it takes Zayn a moment to get it. To remember watching _Captain America_ with Liam and both of them grinning like fools when Bucky refused to go without Steve (and then tearing up when Bucky fell), but then understanding lights Zayn’s eyes, and he looks both horrified and terribly amused.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” Zayn gapes at him. Liam can’t believe it either, can feel his face growing red. “Did you just imply –?”

“No,” Liam says firmly. “I absolutely did not. Didn’t you want to shower or something?”

Zayn looks like he wants to continue the sentence that Liam interrupted, but Liam’s absolutely not going to let him.

“Come on,” he grabs Zayn’s hand and tugs. “Let’s go shower, and I’ll return your favor from earlier.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“No,” Liam can’t fight his smile though because he absolutely is. Anything to get Zayn to drop it. “Maybe I just really want to blow you.”

Zayn hums, but eventually nods. “Fine, I guess we can do that... Captain.”

Liam groans and throws his head back. “You’re never going to let me forget that are you?”

Zayn’s grin is a thing of beauty, his eyes twinkling with mischief that makes Liam’s heart race. “Never,” he promises, pressing another kiss to Liam’s mouth before pulling away to start the shower.

Liam leans back against the counter to watch him and tries to keep up his charade of irritation, but that promise – that promise of never which implies a forever – it makes him smile.

Because Liam believes it. He believes Zayn, and he believes that they can make this work.  

He believes in them.

And that’s all that love really is, he thinks, believing in one another.


End file.
